What Lingers in the Dark
by DeceptiveFates
Summary: She had changed.Long gone was the beloved know-it-all bookworm. T'was nothing more than a memory of what she once was. Her life consumed by darkness, yet ironically she fought for the light. Severus was her saviour, and she was his salvation.Disregard HBP
1. The Death Phoenix

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 1 – The Death Phoenix

In the cold darkness of night, a lone figure could be seen atop a hill in the distance. Deep crimson robes billowed out and the woman's rich, dark brown hair was tossed about with every gust of wind. Her face was covered by a mask fit to be worn in a masquerade ball, deep shimmering crimson trimmed with black and silver with phoenix feathers placed strategically to add a mystical look to her ensemble. Yet behind that mask if one dared to look closely enough, dark, mysterious, cold brown eyes could be seen, replacing the usual warm toffee coloured eyes that her friends had come to find so comforting. Suddenly a flash of red was seen, and the image of a flaming red phoenix was shot into the air, disturbingly similar to the Dark Mark, yet signifying everything that the feared Dark Lord was not. Then in an instant she too was gone.

* * *

The next day, havoc reigned at the Order's headquarters with Order members chattering away in the sitting room and Ron trying to sneak food out of the kitchens, which only resulted in Mrs. Weasley's shouting, not to mention the constant stream of people coming in and out of the house via the front door and the fireplace. Yet, all in all it was a normal day at Grimmauld Place. The place was always bustling with activity, and now with Hogwarts closed for the year, and the final battle approaching, tensions were running high. However, the main reason for the chaos this day was the content of the front page of the _Daily Prophet_.

_The Death Phoenix Strikes Again_

Early this morning the battered, bloody, mutilated body of Augustus Rockwood was found on the outskirts of London. Mr. Rockwood was in fact a Death Eater, and is yet another victim of the feared Death Phoenix (also known as Lady Death). Her mark shone bright in the sky, a shimmering testament to the execution of one of You-Know-Who's inner circle. This latest murder is the 12th in a series of brutal murders committed by Lady Death, as she systematically brings errant Death Eaters to their knees. Her methods are brutal, yet her true identity still eludes the public. All that is known is that her targets are Death Eaters alone, and should they cross her path, they will meet a fate worse than death. The general public has reached a sort of unofficial consensus that next to You-Know-Who himself, she is the most feared person in the Wizarding world.

To read more see page 3.

This particular article sparked chaos in the Order, since the topic of Hermione's 'work' was a constant source of controversy. It was generally agreed that her methods were... effective, though most did not approve of said methods. Yet no one could deny that she had systematically brought down more Death Eaters in the past few years than the rest of the Order combined. However, that was small comfort compared to knowing the reality of what she did and how she had changed from the once simple Gryffindor bookworm to the fierce and terrifying woman who had been dubbed 'Lady Death.'

* * *

Her life, which had once been relatively simple, had changed drastically in the course of one summer. Granted it was one horrifying, terrible summer, but a summer nonetheless. It all started that fateful day in the summer of her fifth year. It was the second day into summer and was sweet relief compared to the chaos of her fifth year at Hogwarts. That year was one that she wasn't likely to forget anytime soon, yet little did she know that the events of the past year would be nothing compared to the years to follow.

Although it was commonly believed that Hermione was an only child, this was not the case. In fact, she had an adorable six-year-old younger sister, who was the epitome of happiness. It was her sister Leigh whom she missed the most during her school terms more than anyone. She was the very picture of innocence and was in all ways an indescribable joy. Perhaps Hermione's fondness for her sister stemmed from the fact that they rarely fought and were as close as any two siblings could be. They were not without their fair share of sisterly spats, though they were few and far between. So it was on this second day of blissful freedom that found Hermione curled up in a couch on the front porch with her sister, reading a book. Her mother was out in the front yard working on the garden while her father had gone to the grocery store to get supplies for a 'special' dinner in order to celebrate Hermione's return home for the holidays. It had become a tradition of sorts and she would hardly complain, especially since her sister loved the excitement of it all. To any passerby it was the very picture of domestic bliss.

Suddenly out of nowhere, there was a series of pops shattering the silence of the afternoon. It happened so fast that before Hermione even had the chance to react, it was over. In a matter of seconds, six masked, robed men Apparated into the Grangers' front lawn and snatched Hermione, her sister, and her mother in broad daylight. For Hermione this was the catalyst which changed her life from that of a peaceful existence to one filled with dark destruction and cold indifference.

* * *

_*In a dungeon somewhere in England*_

"Well, don't just stand there, I want them awake...NOW!" yelled a man.

"Of course, my apologies, sir," another man said.

The first thing Hermione noticed upon waking was the pounding of her head, shortly followed by the intense pain in her ribs, probably a result of the blow that was just delivered.

"Ah, look, the filthy Mudblood has chosen to grace us with her consciousness, how excellent!" came the sickly sweet voice of a man. As Hermione's eyes focused in the dim light she realized why the voice was vaguely familiar. It was none other than Lucius Malfoy, father of her arch rival Draco Malfoy.

* * *

The next month was filled with brutality and suffering greater than could be imagined by most. They were held captive by 12 men, all of whom she assumed were Voldemort's inner circle. It was these men who came at random intervals during day and night to rape, torture and attempt to destroy the two women and child who were their victims for the time being. They tortured her sister and did unspeakable things to Hermione and her mother as they lay helpless, unable to protect themselves from such vicious attacks. Eventually the Death Eaters tired of her mother and thus raped, tortured and killed her before Hermione's very eyes. By the end of her first week of her imprisonment, she was left with only her baby sister and the lifeless corpse of the mother she had loved so dearly.

She tried so hard to protect her sister; she was just an innocent child, a sweet, vulnerable innocent who had done nothing to deserve the torture she was being subjected to. It was perhaps the torture inflicted upon her baby sister which truly broke her, rather than the horrors they inflicted upon her own body. As the days dragged on, Hermione never lost her strength of will, or her optimistic belief that they would be rescued. In her eyes, she knew she needed to be strong, not only for herself, but for her sister, they needed to get through this. Though it would seem that salvation was not an option for the Granger girls; by the third week of their imprisonment, the Death Eaters decided that they were tired of her sister and that, since she was nearly half-dead already, they would finish the job. However, it was not so simple. They killed her slowly, and in the most painful way possible prolonging her death while Hermione could do nothing but lie helpless and watch as they gleefully stripped the life from her sister's frail body. It was in that moment, the very instant they killed little Leigh that Hermione Granger died and the Death Phoenix was born.

* * *

It was two weeks after her sister's death that the Order found her. Ironic that over a month of torture and misery could have been brought to an end in the span of ten minutes, for that was all the time it took for the rescue mission to be completed. It was on August 13th that she was found by Kingsley Shackbolt, Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Bill Weasley. The sight that met them was not one they were likely to forget either, for the cell that she was found in reeked of blood and the decaying bodies of her mother and sister. There was blood splattered all over the walls and floor, and the sight of Hermione's half-dead body was the stuff of nightmares. Unfortunately they were unable to catch the Seath Eaters responsible for Hermione's imprisonment. Instead of taking Hermione back to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, they used Snape Manor as their temporary safe house. Ironic perhaps that a Death Eater's house should be the safe haven for a girl recently rescued from Death Eaters, yet it was the safest place for her. It was here that she spent the rest of the summer recovering and where the story truly begins.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please._ :)


	2. The Manor

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills.  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

_Clearly, I am being lazy and just copying the same message at the beginning of each re-upload... sorry, it's just too much of a hastle to copy all the comments I've made over the years from each chapter. Hopefully the upload will be so error free that it makes up for my laziness! I can hope :p  
_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 2 – The Manor

Hermione's father and Madam Pomfrey were already at the manor when she arrived. The others were quickly shooed out by the Healer, as it was clear that Hermione was hanging onto life by a mere thread.

In the following three days, her body recovered, but Hermione still refused to answer any questions as to what occurred during her stay with the Death Eaters. Madam Pomfrey was the only one who had seen the extent of her injuries, and due to Healer-patient confidentiality, she was unable to reveal anything beyond the most basic health report. With Madam Pomfrey's 24-hour care and the use of several potions and spells, it still took a full three days for all of Hermione's physical injuries to heal. Yet even a Healer as skilled as Madam Pomfrey was unable to rid Hermione of the multitude of scars that covered nearly every inch of her body.

* * *

On the fifth day of Hermione's stay at Snape Manor, she was allowed out of bed and deemed physically healthy… relatively at any rate. Hermione gingerly got out of bed for the first time since her ordeal and slowly made her way to the shower. Knowing the state her body was most likely in, she stripped quickly and stepped into the hot shower, not daring to spare a glance at the mirror. She closed her eyes as the water cascaded over her battered and beaten body, revelling in the warmth as she tried to ignore the images that flashed before her mind's eye. She opened her eyes with a gasp and started scrubbing her body, as if trying to wash away the dirt of her soul. After 45 minutes of frantic scrubbing, her body ached from both the strain of standing for so long and the skin she had just rubbed raw. Hermione turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a large white towel, and as she stepped out of the shower had no choice but to look into the mirror. She gazed at her frail form with a mixed expression of disgust and despair. She had never been a classic beauty, she knew. But now, with all that marred her body and soul, she could feel nothing but intense hate for what she had become and for what _they_ had done to her.

Her arms were spattered with scars from her shoulders to her wrists. The Death Eaters had chosen to experiment with new torture techniques on her. Her legs were similarly scarred. And as for her torso… she had not the heart to look as it was currently covered by the towel. With a small sigh, she turned her back to the mirror and dressed quickly in the clothes she had set out. As she emerged from the bathroom, she was greeted by the sight of a small house-elf sitting on the floor in the middle of the room.

"Miss! Master tells me to bring you to the dining room for breakfast. Miss has visitors!" exclaimed the little elf as it sprang to its feet.

Hermione simply nodded and followed the elf down to the dining hall. Upon entering the room, she saw her father, Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore, Remus and Bill Weasley waiting for her. Her father rushed to her side as she stepped into the room, not noticing how she cringed away from his touch. As soon as he loosened his hold, she quickly shrugged out of his grasp. The others watched and noted their interaction with interest, but said nothing.

She moved away from her father and stood off to the side as she waited for the others to explain the reason for their presence. They all stared at her expectantly, no one quite sure what to say. Suddenly the room felt very small, she felt caged, and without any warning, Hermione bolted from the room, straight back up to what she had claimed as her room.

"Perhaps I will speak with her alone first," Albus said with a sad shake of his head

"Yes, I rather think you should. The poor girl has yet to string two words together," replied Remus, staring worriedly at the spot from which Hermione had just disappeared.

With that, Albus Dumbledore made his way up to Hermione's room and, with a gentle knock on her door, asked for admittance. She came to the door and opened it slightly. After giving him a long weary look, she allowed him in and returned to her stance by the window.

"Miss Granger… Hermione, why don't you come take a seat, my dear child," he stated quietly.

For all appearances it seemed as though she had not heard a word he just said, yet she slowly turned and made her way to the bed like an obedient child obeying a parent.

"My dear child, I realize that you have been through a terrible ordeal, but it is imperative I know what happened. Forgive me for being so blunt and I do not wish to be callous, but I must know, did you recognize any of the Death Eaters?" he asked.

She nodded but refused to say a word.

"Who did you see? Can you remember their names?"

"Malfoy, Nott, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Dolohov, the Lestrange brothers, and Bellatrix," Hermione recited in a mechanical voice, as though she were simply listing the Quidditch team line-up for the year, rather than naming the Death Eaters responsible for the deaths of her mother and sister.

"Very well. Thank you, my dear. Get some rest; I'm sure it will do you good"

She simply nodded her ascent and returned to gazing out the window as the Headmaster quietly took his leave. It pained him to see the once bright and enthusiastic girl reduced to this shell of a being. With a sad shake of his head, he returned downstairs to inform the others of his newly acquired knowledge.

* * *

When the Headmaster relayed the information to the Order members downstairs, he was met with varying reactions of shock, anger, and disbelief.

"You do realize she has just named nearly all the members of _his_ inner circle, don't you?" Severus drawled.

"I am well aware, Severus, thank you," Albus replied with a tired sigh. "I wonder… how is it that so many of the inner circle took part, yet you were left unawares?"

"I do not know, but I suspect that this attack was not one authorized by the Dark Lord, but rather one of Lucius' pet projects. As you know, I am rarely made aware of those."

"Yes, of course. I did not mean to sound accusing, my dear boy."

"Indeed."

"Is there anything we can do, Albus?" Remus asked.

"I'm afraid not. We must wait until Miss Granger chooses to speak of the events that occurred during her capture," Albus replied.

"Until then, should she stay here? Or should we take her back to headquarters?" Bill asked.

"I believe, she should remain here. She does not need to deal with the others at a time like this. Should she express a wish to return to Grimmauld Place, then we shall of course comply, but otherwise, I think it best she stay here," the Headmaster answered with a tone of finality.

* * *

Hermione spent the remainder of the day locked in her bedroom, refusing to speak with anyone, and only emerging for meals. It was as though she was so deeply withdrawn into her own mind that no one, not even her father, could draw her out into present reality. By the end of the day, it was clear that Hermione was not likely to return to her normal self any time soon, if ever. So it was with this sad revelation that everyone, with the exception of Hermione, her father, and Severus, returned to Headquarters.

The remainder of her stay with the Potions master passed in a similar manner. Her father tried desperately to bring back his 'old 'Mione' but was in a constant state of disappointment due to her continued refusal to 'behave normally'. It seemed that the more he pushed, the further she withdrew into herself, to the point where he felt there was nothing that could bring her back. It was with this realization that her father gave up and decided to return home, for it was clear that he could do nothing for his precious daughter.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please. :)_


	3. The Trio Reunited

_Hi All,_

_I got a review saying that there were quotations missing... I have no idea how that happened, but I re-uploaded the chapter. No changes from before.__As always, thanks to my wonderful Beta, AmyLouise!_

_**Note: **I appreciate the constructive criticism but please do not be rude in your comments. I do want mistakes to be pointed out to me, but please be respectful to both myself and my beta when you do so. Thanks.  
_

Review Response: hippononymous - _Regarding the missing quotation marks, I don't know why they went missing in this chapter when I uploaded it the last time, but there was no mistake on my word document so when it switched over on the site, something must have went wrong._

_-DF_

* * *

Chapter 3 – The Trio Reunited

Soon, it was time to return to Hogwarts. Hermione had improved slightly, for she now spoke when spoken to, but she would do no more than that. She did not chatter away as she might have done a few months ago; she had an altogether more serious, dark, and angry air about her. Her recent silence was not something the Potions master was likely to complain about, but despite his aloof appearance, he was deeply troubled by the extent of the change he perceived in Hermione.

She was seen to the Hogwarts Express by a procession of Order members. However, for the sake of her comfort and ease, the guard consisted of the same members who had rescued her earlier that summer. Hermione stepped through the barrier and was immediately accosted by several worried Weasleys and Harry.

"Hermione, dear, oh, darling, are you all right? Oh, dear, we were all so very worried. It's wonderful to have you back," Mrs. Weasley gushed as she pulled Hermione into a fierce hug.

The instant Mrs. Weasley touched Hermione, she stiffened, her arms and back ramrod straight, and for an instant a brief look of undiluted terror flitted over her features. Thankfully, no one except Harry noticed. He gave her a curious look but only received a short shake of the head as a response. In that moment, Harry knew he would have to speak with Hermione in private later.

"Well, dear, are you all right?" Mrs. Weasley pressed.

"I'm fine," Hermione responded in an emotionless voice.

"Oh," she responded, shocked at Hermione's bland tone.

Harry was shocked by Hermione's cold demeanour; he had never heard her sound so harsh and detached before. It was clear to him that the time she had spent away was not enough for her to heal. _She just needs time,_ he told himself, _she's strong, she'll be fine,_ he chanted mentally, as he approached her in a calm, yet tentative manner.

"I'm glad you're back, 'Mione; I was worried sick. We all were. We'll talk later though, ok?"

"Sure, Harry, thanks," she answered, showing more feeling than she had since she was taken. For no matter what horrors Hermione had endured, she did not wish to be an additional burden for her best friend.

"Come on, let's get on the train, yeah?" Ron said as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah, at least then we can talk privately," Ginny added, giving Hermione a worried look.

With that, the Order members escorted the group of Hogwarts students onto the train, all the way up to their compartment. It seemed that the Order was not going to take any chances, because when the rest of Hermione's guard left, Bill Weasley stayed behind, sitting with them in the carriage.

"Bill, what are you still doing here?" Ron asked.

"Sorry, guys, you're stuck with me for the ride. I've been instructed to escort Hermione all the way up to the castle. We're not willing to take any chances now," he replied apologetically.

"Oh, cool," Ron said and promptly turned towards Harry to strike up a conversation about Quidditch.

Harry, however, was only partially paying attention to Ron, as he was watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye. He could see plainly that she was greatly troubled, and he didn't blame her. She had just lost her mother and sister, and Harry of all people knew how painful it was to lose family. He also realized that it must be ten times worse for Hermione; for she, unlike Harry, knew what it was that she had lost. Harry had never known his parents, so in a way it was easier than if he had known them before he lost them. He realized that his pain must be nothing compared to the loss she felt, and to have seen it happen with her own eyes… that was more cruel and horrendous than even Harry could imagine.

"Hey, you ok, Hermione?" Ginny asked softly.

"Fine, Gin," Hermione replied in a blank, emotionless manner.

Ginny sighed, and left her to look out the window, realizing that it would be a while before Hermione would be willing to talk to anyone. The train ride passed normally and without any disturbances. Due to Bill's presence, the trio were not even bothered by the usual Slytherin invasion that seemed to have made a tradition of harassing them on the annual train ride to Hogwarts.

They arrived at Hogsmeade station and were accompanied by Bill to the carriages. In a reasonably short amount of time, they reached the castle, blissfully hassle-free. However, by the time they reached the Great Hall, it became clear to Hermione's friends that she was by no means recovered from the events of the summer. During the entire trip she had uttered no more than two words and did not seem further inclined to speak at all. This new silence from Hermione was unsettling for the boys, as they were so used to Hermione's constant nagging. Things were changed, and it was becoming clear that their sixth year was going to be very different from any other. The trio took their usual places at Gryffindor table, while Ginny went off to sit with her friends. They were soon joined by the rest of their friends and the usual greetings were exchanged while Hermione sat quietly, seemingly in another world altogether.

"What's up with her?" Dean whispered to Harry and Ron.

"Nothing, leave her be," Harry hissed back, shooting his friends a warning glance.

"Whatever, mate."

The sorting proceeded normally, and after Dumbledore's usual welcome speech, he announced that the new DADA professor was going to be Alastor Moody, the real one this time. It seemed that Dumbledore wanted a trustworthy Defence professor for once, and at least this time, it was clear that he wasn't an imposter. The introductions over, the feast began, and all too soon the students trudged off to bed, none too eager for the morning which would bring about the dreaded first day of classes.

* * *

Time seemed to fly as they all quickly settled back into their usual patterns. Before they knew it, the first week of classes was over. However, while that first week flew by for most students, it most certainly did not for Hermione. For her, each day was a struggle. The once jovial girl who loved being surrounded by friends suddenly became secluded and seemed to resent all forms of human contact. Even those closest to her were pushed away in such a detached manner that it shocked everyone, including the few who knew of her imprisonment. It was that Friday Harry finally had the chance to talk properly to Hermione.

"Hey, 'Mione, care to go for a walk?" Harry asked. Hermione gave him a bland look as if to enquire why.

"Please, Hermione?" he pressed earnestly.

"All right, Harry," Hermione answered with a sigh.

"Great, come on."

With that the two walked out of the common room, leaving all their friends staring after them with awe. It was the first time since their return that Hermione had voluntarily agreed to spend time with anyone.

* * *

Harry looped arms with Hermione and took her out for a walk around the lake, eventually settling down by a large tree so they could sit and talk. The weather was beautiful; it was slightly windy and would have been cold had they not been wearing sweaters, but the autumn air was refreshing.

"How've you been, 'Mione? Like, really been?" Harry asked softly.

"Coping," she said with a small smile.

"I thought as much… I guess I kinda know how you feel, with Sirius and all…."

"Yeah… damn war."

"Heh, yeah. You know I love you, right?" he said suddenly. "You're like the sister I never had… if I could choose anyone in the world to have as a sibling, I'd choose you without a doubt."

"I know, Harry, I know. I love you too…." Hermione replied as she gazed out over the lake. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, relishing in the silent support each offered.

"We'll get them, you know" Harry said suddenly, "Those bastards who took you… they'll pay."

"No, Harry, you won't," she replied, her voice turning cold and harsh. "_I'll_ get them. _I'll_ make them pay. Every. Single. One. Of those sons of bitches who stole my family, my innocence, my life. I will make them regret the day they kidnapped me and my family. Not you, but _me._"

"Um, Hermione… I know how you feel about revenge… really I do, but you're kinda scaring me."

"No, Harry, you _don't_ know. You did not have to see your family tortured, mutilated and murdered before your very eyes," Hermione said in the same cold voice

"You're right, I didn't. But I _do_ understand. I have no family left at all now that Sirius is dead. He was my last link to my parents except for Remus… please, just… please, don't do anything stupid, 'Mione," he said, looking at her closely. "You're almost the only person I have left…."

"I promise, Harry, but I will get my revenge. Not now… not while we're still in school, but soon," Hermione answered, her voice returning to its usual tone. "Come on; it's gonna get dark soon, let's head back."

"Yeah, 'Mione."

And so the two quietly walked back up to the castle and went off to bed. Harry, however, was more worried about Hermione than before, especially after hearing her vow of revenge. But he was not about to breach her trust, so instead he promised himself that he would keep a closer eye on her because she really was the sister he never had.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please. :)_


	4. Discipline of the Mind

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 4 – Discipline of the Mind

The next day, Hermione was summoned to the Headmaster's office, and Harry, who was suddenly very protective of her, insisted on escorting her there. As she entered his office, Hermione immediately noticed the presence of both her Head of House and Professor Snape.

"You wished to see me?" Hermione asked bluntly.

"Yes my dear; take a seat, please… Lemon drop?" he replied.

"No, thank you."

"Well… I have called you here to discuss the events of the summer. I know you do not want to talk about them, but we _must_ know everything that occurred."

"I hardly see why it could be so important to know what happened. I thought it was quite clear: they kidnapped my family and proceeded to torture and murder them, all before my eyes no less. It's really not that complicated," Hermione responded, as she reverted to that same cold, emotionless tone.

"But what happened, my dear?" Professor McGonagall asked in earnest.

"That is none of your concern, Professors. I gave you the names of those responsible. Surely there can be nothing further?"

"All right, my dear. One last thing: did they use Legilimency on you?" the Headmaster asked.

"No, they did not."

"And Veritaserum?"

"They did."

"What did they ask? Did you reveal anything?" Dumbledore asked urgently, seeming very worried.

"No, I did not. I did not reveal any of the Order's secrets. Believe me, my mother paid for that choice with her life," Hermione answered with a bitter laugh.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I truly am; but do not be so determined to take responsibility for your mother's death. Difficult as it may be to hear, her fate was sealed the moment you were all taken. It was not your fault that she was taken from this world in such a cruel and unforgiving manner. I would not wish you to drown in guilt, a burden which is not yours to bear." This reply was met with silence from the bowed head of the young Gryffindor.

"Now, the reason Professor Snape is here is that I think you could benefit from some lessons in Occlumency. We cannot risk anyone getting into your mind, not with all that you know about the Order," the headmaster continued.

"I see."

"Miss Granger, if you will come to my office after dinner tonight we can set up a schedule. Learning Occlumency will be both intensive and brutal. I will require your _full_ attention and I expect dedication. I will _not_ have my time wasted as it was with Potter. Are we clear?" Professor Snape asked in his usual harsh manner.

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied obediently.

"Good."

"Well, excellent. That is all, my dear. Why don't you run along and enjoy the rest of your day?" Dumbledore suggested cheerfully, as though they had not been interrogating her for the last twenty minutes.

"Good day, Professors." Hermione strode out of the office fuming, thinking, how dare they question her so callously about what happened, especially when they _knew_ what horrors she had been forced to live through. Did they only care about what damage may have been done to their precious Order? Was the loss of her family seen as being nothing more than collateral damage?She had always believed the Headmaster to be a kind and compassionate man, and yet in this most recent encounter he seemed anything but benevolent.

She walked up to the Astronomy Tower and settled down on the balcony, relishing the peace and quiet away from the other students. After sitting there for forty-five minutes, she finally reached a more peaceful state of mind, or at least a less murderous one. Suddenly, she heard footsteps approach and was startled to see Draco Malfoy as she turned around.

"Granger?" he asked, surprised to see her so far away from her Gryffindor domain.

"Malfoy," she replied calmly as she turned to leave. She walked away and was surprised when no taunt or jibe followed.

"I'm sorry," Draco muttered quietly to himself when he thought she was out of ear-shot.

"What was that, Malfoy?" she asked, certain she had heard the Slytherin say something.

"I didn't say anything, Granger," he replied calmly.

Not sure, Hermione lingered for a moment before deciding that either way she probably didn't want to know what he had said. So she turned once again and descended the many flights of stairs. As she made her way down, Hermione couldn't help thinking there was something distinctly strange about Malfoy's behaviour. He had hardly said two words to her, and the Malfoy she knew would have jumped at the opportunity to taunt her, since they were alone. Yet he seemed rather distant... as though he was off in his own world. In short, he seemed extremely "un-Malfoy-like". He seemed oddly non-confrontational, which was definitely a first when it came to the blonde Slytherin.

These thoughts flew around in Hermione's head as the rest of the day passed in a blur. She was still so caught up in thinking about all that had happened during the morning that the next thing she knew, dinner was over. She nodded a silent goodbye to the boys and made her way down to the dungeons to meet with Professor Snape, as promised. She approached the classroom door and knocked twice.

"Enter," came the menacing growl of Professor Snape.

She stepped into the room and silently approached his desk.

"Sit," he commanded. Obediently, she sat.

"The art of Occlumency requires dedication, practice, and full focus. It requires a strong sense of discipline, of both body and mind. Are you willing to make that sort of commitment, Miss Granger?" he asked harshly.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We will have two lessons a week to start. It will be gruelling, difficult, and will most likely tire you out significantly. Are you prepared to have such stress put upon your body and mind?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. We will meet Wednesday after dinner, and on Sunday afternoons at 1:00. This gives you Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays to catch up on school work. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"That will be all, Miss Granger," he said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

"Good night, sir," she said respectfully as she walked out of his office.

As she walked out, Severus looked at her thoughtfully. She had changed quite drastically, her manner completely altered. There were other subtle differences as well, ones not likely to be noticed by her other professors or even her friends. She had always been respectful and relatively obedient, but now, it seemed that she was almost _too_ obedient. She lacked life and spirit. He could hear it in her voice. Her eyes seemed dull; they lacked the exuberance and spark they once had. Severus, however, was not going to go easy on her just because of her recent trauma. That's not to say he was not sensitive to it, but coddling her would do more harm than good. For if there was one thing that Severus had learned about Hermione over the past few years, it was to _never,_ under _any circumstances,_ underestimate her.

* * *

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	5. The Lessons Begins

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 5 – The Lessons Begin

The following day was Sunday, and this meant it would be her first lesson with Professor Snape. She spent her morning in the library, working through homework and simply losing herself in the blissful world of books. Lunch was the usual affair, but at least this time she had a legitimate excuse to give the boys. She had not told them about her lessons, and they seemed too wary of her to ask what her meeting with Dumbledore had been about. So instead she said that she had to meet with a professor and made her way down to the dungeons fifteen minutes early. She once again knocked on the door to the Potions classroom and was met with the usual "enter."

She entered the room and stood silently in front of his desk, waiting for him to give her instructions.

"For the sake of discretion and safety, we will be conducting these lessons in the Room of Requirement; surely you remember that particular room, Miss Granger?" he said with a sneer.

"Yes, sir," she replied, seemingly unfazed by his demeanour.

"Good, follow me."

They made their way to the Room of Requirement, and when they entered, it had taken on the appearance of a comfortable room with no furniture but plenty of plush rugs and soft pillows. Professor Snape closed the door and instructed Hermione to sit in the middle of the room, on one of the rugs. He followed and sat a few feet across from her.

"Now, the first thing to learn in Occlumency is to clear your mind. Self-discipline is the key to learning to protect your mind. Clear your thoughts completely, try to reach a place of calm and peace," he instructed. "This practice of meditation is the first step. In order for you to even _attempt_ to learn, you must make a habit of meditating every day. I suggest clearing your mind before bed every night."

Hermione nodded in understanding. She remembered Harry saying that Professor Snape had instructed him to do this as well. However, in the few minutes that she tried to clear her mind, she found little success. Every time she closed her eyes she was accosted with images of her mother, her sister, and of that blasted cell they had kept her in.

"Push your thoughts and worries away. Think of something soothing, something that will calm you," he said in a low, silky voice. "Nod when you have completed each task I assign."

Hermione silently nodded.

"Good, now keep that calm place… do not allow other thoughts to infiltrate that peace."

Hermione nodded again after a few moments.

"All right, good," he said, seemingly satisfied. "Open your eyes. Now am I correct in assuming that you have already read up on all the theory?"

"Yes, sir, I did it last year, to help Harry."

"Typical. Well, it makes things easier now," he replied sarcastically. "In that case, you know that Occlumency is all about managing your mind. You need to sort your thoughts, visualize them in such a way as to lock them away. Essentially, you need to make your mind a maze. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now that is something you must work on in your own time. I cannot help you with that; it is something you need to master yourself. To begin, we will practice by seeing if you can push me out of your mind."

"All right. Um... how exactly do I do that?"

"It cannot be learned from a book: it is a practical skill. When I enter your mind you will feel some pressure, much like a burgeoning headache. When you feel this, try your hardest to push me out by sheer force of will, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let us begin."

* * *

They practiced hard for two hours, and still made little or no progress, leaving them both very frustrated and angry.

"You need to try harder!" Professor Snape yelled.

"I _am_ trying!" Hermione answered, frustrated.

"Not hard enough," he said viciously. "Again!"

He pushed into her mind, sifting through her thoughts easily. Hermione tried to push him out. They had started out standing up, but she was now on her knees, drenched in sweat from the effort of trying to keep him out of her head.

"Push me out, damn it!" he yelled.

She gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes, anger coursing through her. Anger at everything: at not being able to accomplish her task, at Dumbledore and his idiotic questions, at the Death Eaters who tortured her, at her life in general. She used this anger, and with one final spurt of energy, she pushed with all her might.

Severus was surprised, as he was suddenly thrust out of her mind with a force stronger than he had expected. What surprised him more, though, was the lingering taste of her intense hate, anger, and thirst for revenge.

"Good," he said as he tried to regain his composure. "You did reasonably well for your first attempt."

Hermione simply nodded. She was exhausted, body, mind and soul. He certainly wasn't exaggerating when he said it would be intensive. Her body ached from the physical strain, and she was now sporting a pounding headache, thanks to their four-hour session. It seemed that these lessons were going to be more difficult than she had originally imagined. However, if there was one thing that drove Hermione to succeed, it was fear of failure. And she _would_ master Occlumency, if for no other reason than to prove those Death Eaters wrong. They had tried to break her, but she would be damned if she allowed them to kill her spirit. If they thought she was strong before, that was nothing compared to what she would become.

That day Hermione vowed that by the time she left the confines of Hogwarts, she would be the most dangerous woman alive. She had already sworn to get her revenge, and in order to do that, she needed to train. With that thought, she cleared her mind as Professor Snape had instructed and then went to bed, knowing that the next day, she would attack her lessons with a new vigour.

* * *

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	6. Like Father, Like Son?

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 6 – Like Father, Like Son

The vigour she felt lasted the next day until lunch before the trivialities of daily life once again suppressed the feeling. The intensity she felt the previous day did not, however, dim with respect to her training, but Hermione had hoped that the feeling could filter into other aspects of her life. Classes were of small consequence to her now, the lectures banal, and knowledge of theories behind spells and charms that had held such academic interest before suddenly seemed inconsequential with her new perspective on life. How could such things hold her interest when a few short months ago she wasn't even sure she would be alive? So she trudged along, continuing with the normal flow of life as was expected of her. Yet she found no pleasure in it; not like she had in the years past.

Dinner was the usual affair, and Hermione made a quick escape for the sake of her sanity and that of her friends. Her disposition was not well suited to social interactions as it was and even less so as a consequence of recent events. She was not oblivious to the discomfort her housemates felt in her presence. A part of her was sad for it, but the more reasonable part of her knew that they would soon come to accept and even understand her modified attitude, or so she hoped.

Hermione meandered down the empty corridors on her way to the library. It was one of the few places in which she still found solace. But even the silent whispers of the books could not ease her aching heart. After spending an hour or two among her silent companions, Hermione left, choosing instead to wander the castle alone until curfew. She came upon a small, somewhat hidden section with a window displaying a beautiful view of the school grounds. It was peaceful there. Hermione stood by the window, lost in thought. Her solitude, though, was interrupted too soon by one of her least favourite people – Draco Malfoy.

"Granger," he said in a tone of mild surprise. Draco considered this particular alcove, secluded and peaceful, his own personal haven, away from the main corridors and the students in them. He was therefore somewhat surprised to see Hermione Granger, of all people, at this particular location.

"Malfoy," she acknowledged calmly, turning to leave. She was hardly in the mood for the confrontation that would undoubtedly follow from this meeting. Unfortunately, Malfoy was not of the same opinion.

"Wait... I mean, just hold up a sec," he called out in an oddly non-confrontational tone.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, sighing quietly yet not turning around to face him.

"I just, uh, wanted to say that, um, well..." he stuttered, "I suppose I wanted to convey my condolences... for the recent loss you suffered," he concluded somewhat formally.

Initially, Hermione was stunned.

That surprise, however, rather quickly turned into a fierce and burning rage as she whirled around to verbally attack him. "I have no desire to hear any of your pathetic lies, Malfoy. I have no doubt your father gloated about his latest _catch_, and perhaps you even shared his amusement, so spare me your empty sympathies."

"Don't talk about what you don't know, Granger! I could have thrown what happened this summer in your face just now, but I _chose_ to tell you that I was sorry, and I am. Don't think you're the only one that's suffered at my father's hand," he replied with equal force.

"I don't think you know the meaning of the word suffer, Malfoy... and yes, you did choose to convey your sympathies – sincere or not – but I still see no reason to believe you. It wouldn't be the first time you've tried to manipulate me."

"I never said you had to believe me, Granger, and frankly, I don't care one way or another, but I said my piece... and as for suffering, don't be so naive as to think that you are the only one who has experienced pain or loss. I guarantee you, Granger, you wouldn't last ten minutes in my life, so get off your bloody high horse."

"I never said you hadn't suffered loss, Malfoy; I know that you lost your mother this summer, and I _am_ sorry for that, I truly am. But losing someone to illness is hardly the same as having to watch a Death Eater torture and _murder_ your mother before your eyes. That's not even considering the horrors he subjected my sister and myself to."

"Heh, illness," he muttered bitterly under his breath.

"What was that, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, not certain she had heard correctly.

"Nothing that concerns you, Mu-Granger," he sneered back.

"No... you said something about illness. Is that not what happened?" Hermione questioned. "It's what all the papers said."

She was suddenly curious about the Slytherin's odd behaviour.

"Since when have you known the papers to print any semblance of the truth?" he bit back fiercely, though immediately regretting it. He had slipped; he had not intended to reveal so much to the Gryffindor. This conversation was getting out of hand; he had already said much more than he had ever intended. All he had wanted to do was apologize, to ease his conscience and carry on with his existence. But of course, she couldn't just leave it at that... she had to prod and pry, harass him until he gave her a reason to leave him alone.

"If that wasn't the truth Malfoy, then what happened?"

"It's none of your business Granger, leave it alone."

"You're the one who brought it up, Malfoy, so if it wasn't illness, what happened?" Hermione pushed.

"Look, it doesn't matter. Either way, it doesn't make her any less dead, so just drop it," he said with a certain air of finality, wishing he could just walk away. But for some reason, he didn't. He stayed and continued to let the Gryffindor question him. Perhaps it was the least she deserved; not that he was directly responsible for what had happened to her, but still, it _was_ his father, after all.

Suddenly it became clear to Hermione. Why hadn't she seen it before? All the signs were there, the little spats of bitterness. Naturally, he was defensive, how could he _not_ be? It was hardly the kind of revelation he would make to a loathed classmate.

Tentatively, she asked, "It wasn't an illness, was it, Malfoy? Was it even an accident?"

Her question was met with a tense silence as they sized each other up.

"Like I said, either way, she is gone, so I guess it doesn't really matter how it happened," he repeated quietly.

"You and I both know that's not true, Malfoy. She was your mother; _of_ _course_ it matters how she died," Hermione said softly.

"And why would I tell you what really happened, huh, Granger? Why would I betray my family for some Gryffindor?" he asked tauntingly.

"Because I'm probably one of the few people in this school who would understand... especially after what happened this summer. And I think you know that I wouldn't tell anyone," Hermione replied in a calm manner.

"No, you'd just run off and tell your precious Potter and Weasley; so no thanks, I think I'll pass."

"I would never betray a confidence, Malfoy."

"And why would I choose to confide in a girl who obviously despises me? A girl who now probably wants my father to die a slow and painful death? I will not put my family in harm's way simply to ease your sense of curiosity."

"Oh, I don't want to harm your family Malfoy... just your bastard of a father." Hermione said darkly.

"He's still my father, Granger, and if you haven't noticed, he's practically the only family I've got left," he said quietly, as though trying to convince himself, "regardless of what he's done."

"He tortured and murdered a little girl, Malfoy! _My sister!_" Hermione said emphatically.

"There isn't enough parchment in this school to account for all his victims, Granger, dead or otherwise."

"Then why are you defending him?"

"Because, at the end of the day, he is still my father,"

"And that makes everything okay?" she asked incredulously.

"Don't be stupid, of course not!"

He paused for a moment before adding, "It's not a question of it 'being okay', but rather what you can do about it. We all have our roles to play, Granger; I'm just playing mine."

"So you're just going to pretend that your father's not a murderer?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, Granger. That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Then you're a coward, Malfoy."

"Why? Because I still have a sense of family loyalty? Because I'm not a self-righteous Gryffindor do-gooder?"

"Hmph, family loyalty? Murderers don't deserve any measure of loyalty, Malfoy. And I think it's cowardly, because you can't face the truth! Even when it's staring you in the face!" she snapped back viciously.

"Don't preach about things you don't understand. Open your bloody eyes; life isn't as black-and-white as your little friends make it out to be."

"And what is it I don't understand, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, completely ignoring his taunt about her friends.

"You want to know what happened? You think it's hard to see your family being tortured by a murderous maniac – well, how the hell do you think it feels to see your own mother murdered by her husband?" he shouted back, frustrated and angry with her, with life.

Hermione gasped, unable to hide her shock. Draco's eyes widened a fraction when he realized just what he had said, and more importantly, to whom. He stared at her with an expression of fury and bewilderment, unsure of what exactly had happened. They had been shouting at each other, and the whole exchange had just caused him to snap.

Making a quick decision, Draco snapped out his wand and cast four spells in quick succession. First, he bound and silenced her; then, he sealed the area where they stood from any passersby; and finally, he took her wand so she wouldn't hex him.

"Sorry, Granger, but I can't let you run off after what I just told you. I'm not going to harm you, but I need you to swear not to tell a soul about any of this. Now, promise not to attack me, and I'll release you," he said quickly, undoing the silencing spell but leaving her bound.

"Malfoy, you bastard, let me go!" Hermione growled angrily.

"I will. As soon as you promise not to attack me. Surely you must understand my need for secrecy, Granger."

Hermione huffed, glaring at the blond boy before reluctantly agreeing.

"Now give me my bloody wand back," Hermione demanded.

"Fine," he said, giving it back to her, "but I still need that vow."

Hermione was silent for a moment. She looked at him searchingly before giving him a curt nod.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"It's still none of your business. You wanted to know, I told you: my father murdered her. End of story."

"I'm so sorry, Malfoy," Hermione said sincerely, "I can hardly imagine. Well, I suppose I can somewhat imagine now, but still... your own _father_? Merlin, that's twisted."

"You're telling me," he muttered bitterly.

"But... how-how did it get passed off as an illness?"

"Bribery, fear, magic – take your pick," he answered, cynicism strong in his tone.

"I see," Hermione said shortly. She found that explanation sadly believable. _What a sick and twisted world we live in_, Hermione thought. Human deaths were being pushed under the proverbial rug like nothing more than dead flies. The war was tearing at the seams of their world without their even knowing it... the very fabric of society unravelling with its occupants blissfully unaware.

"I still want an oath, Granger," he reminded.

"Yes, of course," she replied somewhat absently, still thinking about this latest revelation. It was enough to make her head spin.

After getting her oath, Draco removed the privacy spells and walked off without uttering another word. He had no desire to linger and see the pity that would undoubtedly be etched upon her face. Pity could do nothing for him now.

* * *

Hermione stood in the alcove for some time. Her mind could hardly process all the new and horrifying information it had just received. _His own father?_ Hermione thought, still frozen with disbelief. To think he had to live in the same house as the man who killed his mother... _worse,_ he would have to show respect, be kind, be _gracious_ to that monster of a man.

_He must be one hell of an actor, _she thought, as she continued to stare out the window, unseeing. _I wonder how he manages... I doubt I could ever do that. The mere thought of that bastard makes me want to murder someone, so how in the hell does Malfoy continue to live with him? Knowing that his father murdered his mother! Unthinkable!_

Unable to stand alone in that alcove any longer, Hermione turned and strode off quickly. She needed to get her mind off this, or surely it would drive her insane. She swiftly made her way to Gryffindor Tower, hoping to find solace from the silence that now seemed rather oppressive. Entering the common room, Hermione was relieved to hear the typical chatter and laughter that seemed to encompass the room like a warm blanket. For once, she was pleased about the noise, the very sound of happiness. Moving through the room, Hermione was quite happy to see Harry and Ron sitting by the fireplace playing chess. It was such an ordinary scene. One so common it nearly broke her heart. Everyone in this room was carrying on like normal... nothing in their world had really changed. Her mind immediately drifted back to Draco Malfoy, and she could not help but feel for him. No matter how poorly he had treated her over the years, she would never wish something like this on him.

"Hey, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up at her.

"Oi! 'Mione!" Ron said more loudly, reaching up to poke her. She had been standing near them but was staring off in a dazed sort of manner. Upon being poked by Ron, however, she started looking down at them with an almost bewildered expression.

"What?"

"You've been standing there, staring at the wall for the past ten minutes," Harry said, smiling with amusement. It wasn't often he got to call Hermione on zoning out; it was usually _she_ who called _him_ on it.

"Oh! Sorry boys, I was lost in thought," Hermione explained, "so, who's winning?"

Glancing at each other oddly, the boys sat mute for a moment before Ron broke the tense silence with a loud guffaw.

"Do ya have to ask 'Mione? Honestly, the only way Harry could be winning is if I let him!"

"Hey! I don't need you to _let_ me win! Careful Weasley, I think you're gonna lose this one good and proper." Harry defended with a look of exaggerated offence.

"Easy mate, don't wanna look silly in front of our 'Mione now, do ya? Especially when my knight's about to crush your queen!"

This remark was well punctuated as Harry's queen was promptly beaten over her head by the black knight, under Ron's instruction.

"Aw, man!" Harry moaned, turning his gaze from Hermione, back to the board.

"Staring at 'em ain't gonna help them much, mate," Ron stated smugly.

The only response he got was a withering glare from his best friend. Ron was completely unfazed by the look. Hermione, on the other hand, was quite amused. It was refreshing to know that some things would never change, that there was still some measure of normalcy in their lives. After spending a few more hours together, they parted ways as they slipped off to bed. Hermione hoping the following day would bring no more surprises and the boys hoping the following day would bring more of the same interaction from their beloved bushy-haired friend.

* * *

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	7. The Forest

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 7 – The Forest

The next week passed in a blur for Hermione. Between her N.E.W.T. level classes and her extracurricular lessons with Professor Snape, she was rarely found in the common room. This, however, was nothing for her to complain about, since her frequent absences meant that her friends wouldn't pester her with inane questions. Not to say that she didn't appreciate their concern, just that she was not fond of being interrogated at every turn. Therefore, she carefully avoided the boys and ended up only seeing them at dinner every evening.

Harry was concerned by her behaviour. He understood her instinct to withdraw from those around her; heck, he felt the same way, what with everything that had happened at the Department of Mysteries with Sirius. But what concerned him more was the frightening amount of anger and determination for revenge she seemed to be constantly suppressing. He felt anger and a thirst for revenge too, but certainly not to that extent. What Harry hated the most was how distant she was. Usually she would turn to him or Ron for anything… everything! Now, she seemed to withdraw into herself, and _that_ was a very un-Hermione-ish thing to do.

Hermione knew of Harry's worries, for she had become even more observant in her solitude. She found that now that she was silent for much of the time, she picked up on more of the subtle interactions of her housemates. She seemed to have slowly developed a skill for observation, and this, Hermione knew, could only be an asset in the times ahead.

The days were difficult for Hermione, as she was constantly balancing all of her responsibilities and tasks. In order to maintain her sanity, she had taken to having early morning jogs around the castle grounds. She found that the physical strain allowed her to think, sort out her thoughts, and try to cope with the myriad emotions that were wreaking havoc in her system. What had started out as quick half-hour jogs every morning had turned into an obsession for Hermione. She now tended to jog for one hour in the morning, a half hour at lunch, and for one and a half hours before bed. This new, exhausting exercise regime also proved to be helpful for her sleeping, for by the time her day was done and her nightly jog finished, she was completely sapped of all energy. All of this on top of only sleeping for a mere four to five hours a night.

Days turned to weeks, and soon everyone realized that Hermione was irrevocably changed. She was near silent in class and generally only spoke when spoken to. Her professors found her continuously withdrawn behaviour troubling, and her friends and dorm mates were afraid to so much as question her about it, for fear of being subjected to her fearsome wrath. Yet Hermione continued on, seemingly oblivious to all of their opinions. She soon began to relish her lessons with Professor Snape, for no matter what turmoil she was faced with, he treated her the same as always. He was fair in a twisted way. He didn't make exceptions for her; if anything, he pushed her harder now that she had seen the reality of the war. This was a welcome relief from the continuous coddling she received from the rest of the staff and the careful caution from the students.

* * *

Before she knew it, it was December, and the first hints of winter were emerging. The weather turned cold, matching her mood perfectly. She was feeling particularly bitter one Sunday morning and decided to go on a jog to calm herself down before her Occlumency lesson at 1:00 p.m. It was now 11:00 a.m., so she decided to skip lunch as she wasn't very hungry anyway and go for a nice two-hour jog.

She changed into jogging pants and a long-sleeved shirt and made her way outside. As she stepped out of the Entrance Hall, the cold instantly hit her with its biting chill. Ignoring this, she went down the front steps and took off at a slow jog towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Running the perimeter of the forest always gave her a strange sense of peace. Perhaps it was because she knew she was on the edge of the dark unknown, both figuratively and literally. Whatever the reason, the forest always comforted her in some way, not to mention that it was a nice long stretch and served as the outermost boundary of Hogwarts grounds. This meant that it was not only secluded, but had that slight hint of danger that was irresistibly enticing.

Hermione jogged steadily for an hour before she stopped for a short break. She continued to walk along the forest when a sound from the trees caught her attention, disturbing the eerie peace of the afternoon. She stopped short in order to peer into the depths of the forest, not knowing what creature was approaching. When the noise faded, she assumed it was nothing and was about to start jogging again when all of a sudden a large, distinctly male hand closed around her upper arm in a vice-like grip. Startled, she lashed out, turning quickly and thrusting the heel of her hand out towards her attacker's jaw while simultaneously bringing her knee up to hit him in the stomach as she wrenched her arm free. All of this happened with such speed and accuracy that her attacker was caught by surprise, and he immediately stepped back a pace. He had not meant to startle her so much and hence was not expecting such a brutal defence. Hermione looked up hastily, wand in hand and several hexes on the tip of her tongue. It was only then that she got a good look at her attacker.

"Impressive response, Miss Granger," Professor Snape drawled.

Hermione's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He was the last person she expected to be facing.

"Professor Snape! My apologies, I didn't know it was you," Hermione replied cautiously.

"Indeed. Well… you of all people should know better than to wander so close to the Forest. What's more, I believe your lesson will begin in twenty minutes or so?" he sneered, giving her a rather pointed look.

"I am well aware of the time, Professor; I was just about to finish my jog before coming to my lesson," Hermione replied coolly.

"I see. In future, do not jog so close to the forest," he said. "And, Miss Granger, that is not a suggestion, but a direct order."

"Yes, sir," she ground out, starting to get annoyed. "I'll see you in half an hour, sir."

With that, she took off at a run, intent on finishing her loop before her lesson. _Just what I needed,_ she thought sarcastically. She had finally reached a relatively peaceful state of mind when he had to show up and send her right back to square one.

_More like square minus one,_ she thought bitterly, as the memory of his hand closing around her arm led to more painful memories of her time as a prisoner of the Death Eaters.

_No… I will not dwell on those thoughts; they can do me no harm now… they will not break me,_ she chanted mentally as she jogged. It was the same mantra she had chanted relentlessly during her time as a captive, and it had served her well so far.

* * *

She finished her loop and ran up to the castle, slowing only when she reached the doors to the Entrance Hall. She quickly made her way to the Room of Requirement, pausing as she flicked her wand over herself to clean off any remnants of her jog and a cast a quick spell to remove any lingering sweat. With that, she entered the room to find Professor Snape already waiting for her.

"Finish your jog all right, Miss Granger?" he asked politely

"Yes, sir" she replied cautiously, wondering at this newfound civility.

"Good, let us begin."

Their lesson progressed normally, though she lacked focus today. She was only able to stop half his attempts, rather than her usual 80% success rate.

"Focus, dammit!" Snape yelled, frustrated by her lack of success.

"I _am_!" she replied, equally annoyed with her own deficiency.

"Stop. Enough. Your attempts have not been this poor since at least early October. What in Merlin's name has got into you, girl?" he sneered.

"I don't know, I'm just having a bad day. I'm sorry, I'm trying!" she replied, more angry with herself than with him.

"If you aren't up to the task, then don't waste my time," he growled. "I warned you when this started – I don't care for any of your pathetic excuses; I will stand for nothing less than complete focus and determination. Whatever petty problems you have, leave them at the door. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?" he bit out.

"_Petty_ problems?" she shouted in outrage. "My problems are far from petty; how dare you say such a thing, you insensitive bastard! I'm sorry if I'm having a bad day, and I am _soo_ sorry my pain, anguish and loss is such an _inconvenience_ to you. I am so _very_ sorry I did not _die_ in that miserable torture chamber they held me in. I'm so terribly sorry for being such a goddamn burden. So fine, leave me the hell alone because I honestly don't care; it's not like there is anything that can be done to cause me more pain anyway," she ranted angrily, tears streaming down her face, defeat and anguish written clearly in the desolate brown of her eyes.

"You are not an inconvenience; if I thought that, I would not sacrifice so much of my time in training you. Nor are you a burden, and if you _had_ died in that cell, no doubt we would have lost the war because your precious Potter would not have been able to take that loss," he replied in an oddly calm voice. "I am not admonishing you for having a bad day, nor for submitting to memories of the horrors you've lived through. You may believe me to be cold and cruel, but I am not blind to true pain. I only impress upon you that you must overcome the urge to submit to those thoughts and memories, regardless of how you are feeling, in order to master Occlumency."

Hermione had calmed by the end of his speech, feeling oddly relieved after her emotional outburst.

"Fine. I'm sorry, I'll try harder… shall we try again?" she asked timidly.

"Very well," he replied as he suddenly plunged into her mind unexpectedly. He sifted through her thoughts for a few minutes before she was finally able to push him out again.

They continued in this manner for two hours, until she had tired too much to continue. They parted ways, and she returned to her dormitory to shower. The rest of her day passed dully, and by 10:00 p.m. she was thoroughly exhausted; too much even to do her customary before-bed jog. She collapsed into bed, intent on getting a good night's rest, especially after her hectic day. Apparently luck was not with her, as she fell into a fitful sleep riddled with nightmares of the horrors of the summer.

* * *

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	8. Memories

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 8 – Memories

Hermione awoke with a start, her hand reflexively gripping at Lavender's throat. She released her as suddenly as she had grabbed her; the bleariness of sleep slipping away. Lavender stumbled back in fear, shaking fiercely.

"Lavender, I'm sorry – did I hurt you?" Hermione asked, concerned for her dorm mate.

"N-n-no," she stuttered as Parvati put a steadying arm around her shoulders.

"You were screaming in your sleep. Nightmare or something. You okay?" Parvati asked tentatively.

"Oh… uh, yeah. Thanks. Sorry again; it was just a reaction, nothing personal… sorry," Hermione replied, getting out of bed. She was not likely to get any more sleep anyway. She quickly made her way to the bathroom, starting a shower in hopes of chasing away the remnants of her nightmare; no… her memory.

She stepped into the shower, closing her eyes as she welcomed the warm rush of water over her tired body.

"_No, stop! Please, not my sister," Hermione begged as a Death Eater began whipping her baby sister Leigh with a thick leather strap. _

_Her cries rang out in the room, mixed with the cruel laughing of the men who tortured them. Hermione lay there, helpless, as they tortured her poor sister. She could do nothing but watch in horror as the metal studded leather strap came down upon the young child's body repeatedly._

"_Please… stop… stop… anything – leave her be, please, she's just a child! Take me instead, please," Hermione continued to plead._

"_Well, since you insist," Malfoy sneered, leaving her sister unconscious on the floor as he descended upon Hermione._

"_I do believe you will provide much better entertainment for me," he leered provocatively, as he trailed a finger along her breasts…_

Hermione's eyes flew open in alarm as the water, mingling with her tears, began to turn cold.

'No. It will do me no good to remember… forget, Hermione, forget,' she thought as she finished her shower quickly. She stepped out and dried and dressed hurriedly, not sparing herself so much as a glance in the mirror; the sight that would undoubtedly meet her eyes was not one she wished to see. She pulled on her uniform and threw on her robes as she emerged, leaving the bathroom empty for the other girls. She grabbed her books and went down to breakfast, hoping to eat and get out before the boys arrived.

She finished her breakfast in peace, as it was far too early for most students to be up. Noticing that she had time to spare, Hermione decided to take a walk around the grounds. It was cold, and the bitter chill numbed her body, much as the dream had numbed her mind and soul. The grounds had a strange calm about them at this hour. They were untouched and serene. She slowly made her way towards the lake, and as she approached, she saw a lone figure staring out into the depths of the lake, deep in thought. The figure turned at the sound of her crunching footsteps.

"Granger," Malfoy nodded, rather indifferently.

"Malfoy," Hermione replied cautiously. "Where're your goons?" she asked.

"Hmph. Dreaming of sweets and cakes probably," he replied with a snort. "Where're yours?" he countered.

"About the same. Although they're probably dreaming about Quidditch more than sweets," Hermione answered good-naturedly.

"Yeah, well, at least _someone_ in this school can dream of something pleasant," he said bitterly.

"You're telling me," she muttered under her breath.

"So, what terrible nightmare plagued _your_ dreams, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, not entirely sure why she was still speaking to him. Goodness, she hadn't had this lengthy a conversation with even Harry in weeks, so why _Malfoy_? Hermione wondered idly.

"My father," he answered honestly, sending her a sideways glance. "You?"

"Same," Hermione replied softly.

They lapsed into mutual silence, both acknowledging the cause of the other's nightmares. After ten minutes, he suddenly pushed off from the tree he was leaning against.

"Well, I'm freezing, and the other students will be up soon. Catch ya later, Granger," he said, heading back towards the castle.

"Uh, yeah. Later, Malfoy," Hermione replied, somewhat confused about what had just happened.

_Since when am I friendly with Malfoy? My God, have I forgotten what his father did?_ she mentally berated herself. _Ahh, but he isn't his father, and he's been hurt by Lucius almost as much as you have, _her conscience countered. _Oh, whatever, I'm freezing; might as well get to class now… being late won't help my situation any_, she thought, turning to head back.

She made her way to Transfiguration, meeting up with the boys along the way.

"Morning 'Mione," they mumbled in unison

Hermione merely nodded at them. This had become rather normal, and they didn't say another word till they reached the classroom. The rest of the day passed in a blur. Hermione had been oddly silent all day, and by dinner, Harry's curiosity was driving him crazy.

"You okay, 'Mione? You've been awfully quiet today," he said softly.

"I'm fine, Harry," Hermione replied, as normally as she could. All day her thoughts had been plagued by random flashes from her nightmare, each one more painful than the last. All of this, on top of the confusion of her early morning encounter with a certain blonde Slytherin. It was enough to drive her insane!

"If you're sure… you know I'm always here for you, right?" he persisted.

"Yes, Harry, thank you, I'm fine… Look, I've got to get to my lesson, I'll see you in the common room later, all right?"

"Sure, 'Mione," he replied, defeated.

"See ya later, Hermione!" Ron said when he noticed her leaving

* * *

Hermione wandered the halls aimlessly, lost in her own thoughts. Dinner wouldn't be over for another half-hour, and she didn't want to simply sit and wait in the Room of Requirement. She wandered up to the Astronomy Tower, sitting idly as she allowed her thoughts to consume her. She was caught up in her own little world and failed to notice the four Slytherins that were approaching until it was too late to make an escape.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Mudblood Granger," Pansy Parkinson sneered.

"What's wrong, Mudblood, miss your mama?" Theodore Nott Jr. baited her as Crabbe and Goyle grunted and laughed from behind him

Hermione flinched slightly before saying in a cool tone, "Go to hell – maybe then you can have a little family reunion." She then made to go around them, but Crabbe and Goyle blocked her way.

"I suggest you tell your thugs to move unless you all want to be on the receiving end of my wand," Hermione threatened dangerously.

"Heh, yeah, we're terrified, Mudblood; what're ya gonna do? There's four of us and one of you, and from what I hear, you don't put up all that much of a fight either," Nott replied.

"Would you really like to test that theory? 'Cause that's all it is. I'll show you reality," she answered in a deceptively calm voice.

Then, just as a duel was about to break out, Professor Moody appeared.

_Impeccable timing, Professor,_ Hermione thought sardonically.

"And just what is going on here? Four against one? Typical cowardly Slytherin behaviour. I might have known. Twenty points from Slytherin! Now get out of my sight before I get really angry," Moody growled menacingly.

The Slytherins scampered away, but not before sending Hermione one last threatening glance. She would have to watch her back from now on.

"All right there, lass?" Moody asked gruffly.

"Fine, sir, thank you," Hermione replied politely. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I have a lesson in a few minutes."

"Of course, of course. You watch out for yourself; those Slytherins are nasty pieces of work."

"Yes, sir," she replied, giving a polite nod before she made her way down to the Room of Requirement.

* * *

Hermione was frustrated to note that she was no less distracted in this lesson than she had been on Sunday. Snape refused to go easy on her, and this was not something that she objected to, for it was his constant pressure that provided her the motivation and drive to strive higher. However, on one of his probes he happened to come across the memory of her dream from that night. The memory was so strong that he found himself unable to pull out of her mind and was forced to watch the horrors unfold before his eyes. When he was able, he pulled out of her mind abruptly; disgusted, shocked and pained by what he saw. Hermione, however, had a glassy look in her eyes as she was once again forced to relive those moments.

"My sincere apologies, Miss Granger; I had no intention of invading your privacy in such a manner," he apologized sincerely.

Hermione remained silent, as though she had not heard a word he said. She seemed to be lost in her memories. Severus knew that the mind was a delicate thing, and he knew that a person in such a state should not be shocked out of their memory. It could be disastrous. It was for this reason that he approached her carefully and calmly tried to break her trance.

"Miss Granger? It's all right, you are in Hogwarts," he said in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

"You are safe," he continued as he gently touched her shoulder.

She flinched slightly, but showed no sign of emerging from her trance-like state. This worried the Potions master, as it was clear she had withdrawn into her mind and was trapped in the memories of her tragic summer.

"Miss Granger… Hermione, they cannot harm you here," he persisted soothingly. He knew that the only way to safely draw her from her memories was to coax her out.

He continued in a similar manner for nearly thirty minutes when all of a sudden, as though a veil had been lifted, she snapped back into the present with a shuddered gasp of pain. Hermione gasped and trembled in a mixture of pain, anguish and grief; silent tears cascading down her pale cheeks. Her eyes looked haunted as she tried desperately to gain a firm grip on reality once more.

Severus, knowing that this stage was critical, continued his soft, gentle assurances and kept his hand lightly on her shoulder, as if to ground her to the present with his mere touch.

Hermione suddenly lurched forward and clutched onto Severus as though he were a lifeline in her bottomless pool of pain. Severus was shocked by her sudden motion, but slowly and carefully put his arms around her, shushing her as she cried herself to exhaustion. After several moments and even more tears, Hermione finally quietened. By this point she was tired… physically, mentally and emotionally, but she regained her bearings and flushed with embarrassment as she pulled away from her professor.

"Professor Snape, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to accost you like that, I don't know what came over me..." Hermione apologised, showing a glimmer of her former self.

"It's all right, Miss Granger. It is not an unusual reaction for someone who has suffered such trauma," Severus replied stiffly, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Thank you, sir," she said softly, knowing how awkward he must have felt.

"Indeed. I believe that will be all for today.

"I think it would be best if we acquired a Pensieve for you during these lessons. It would be both dangerous and foolish to risk another withdrawal like the one you just had."

"Yes, sir. Good night."

Severus merely nodded as he watched her walk out of the room. He followed shortly, but could not get the images of her torture out of his head. He had seen torture, participated in it, been subjected to it; yet for some reason he could not get her anguished screams out of his head. He felt responsible on some level, and guilty… for not doing enough; for having been foolish enough to have joined the Death Eaters in the first place. Severus had a long, not-so-healthy relationship with guilt and regret, and it seemed as though this last occurrence merely added to the long list of reasons why he had said relationship. It was with these last thoughts and images that he went to bed, knowing that the memory he had witnessed would fill his nightmares for the days to come.

* * *

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	9. Compliments From Snape! Never!

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

_GAH! I accidentally deleted chapter 1 to fix the title, and it wiped my read counts :( *sniff sniff* Thankfully, the most important part was saved... my reviews! So I apologize for the wonky chapter names... doesn't let me fix it without deleting. *sigh*  
_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 9 – Compliments From Snape? Never!

Hermione awoke the next morning, dreading the day to come. A good night's sleep did not seem to diffuse the strong sense of embarrassment she still felt over what had occurred the previous evening. She had been so careful about maintaining her image of imperviousness, not daring to show any real emotion or even a modicum of weakness to anyone since her 'rescue'. Until now, that is. She felt like a fool, weeping like a distraught female, and in front of Snape, of all people! Of all ways to be shamed! He was quite possibly the _last_ person she wanted to see her in such a state. Alas, nothing could be done about it now, but it was almost guaranteed that her next lesson would be awkward. So with these thoughts bouncing around in her head, she finished her morning routine and got ready for her morning jog.

Remembering Professor Snape's warning, she made sure not to venture as close to the Forest as she usually did, for if there was one thing she knew about Snape, it was that he didn't say anything without a reason. Not to mention it was perfectly logical, and she probably wasn't doing the brightest thing in the world by jogging so near the forest anyway. Logically, she knew that, but the irrational part of her brain was somehow drawn to the forest regardless of the dangers. With that in mind, she set off for her jog, and this time it was peaceful and uninterrupted. She returned to her dorm, showered, and still managed to beat Harry and Ron to breakfast. Thankfully, today she would not have any Occlumency lessons, but there was still Potions to worry about. Hermione, feeling a little reluctant to be alone, lingered over her breakfast, hoping at least to be in the company of the boys.

"Hermione! You're usually long gone to the library by this time!" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"Usually, yeah. Is it so wrong to want to spend some time with my best friends?" Hermione asked calmly, fixing him with a somewhat sly look.

"Of course not, 'Mione, we always love your company! I was just surprised, is all – pleasantly though, mind," he replied cheekily, with a grin and a wink.

"Morning, Hermione," Ginny said softly.

"Morning, Gin, Ron," Hermione responded with a small smile, almost seeming shy for a moment.

Ron gaped, seemingly incapable of speech, too shocked by Hermione's suddenly near-normal behaviour. All he could do was stare at her with wide eyes as if she'd morphed into some strange creature.

"Ron!" Harry hissed, elbowing him discreetly. "Say something!"

"Wha— oh, yeah, morning, 'Mione. Blimey, it seems like it's been _ages_ since I talked to you," Ron said in his typical blunt manner.

Hermione merely smiled, knowing that her friend meant no harm. In that moment, she almost felt normal again, as though the summer had never happened. Sitting there watching the boys stuff their faces was such a normal occurrence, that she suddenly realized just how carefree she had been before. It may look the same now, to an outsider, but Hermione knew it was different. _She_ was different. It seemed that sitting with them as she used to only made it more clear that things could never go back to how they were.

Long gone were the happy days when they were constantly getting into mischief and ready to solve the next great puzzle. No, it no longer seemed like a game or a fun adventure to Hermione. It was too real: the loss, the suffering, the true horrors of the war. If there was one thing Hermione could wish for, it was to have everything go back to how they were. She longed to be the naïve, _innocent_ girl she once was. But there was no use pining for that which could not be attained. Sadly, nothing could change what happened, but she _could_ make the most of it and pour her heart and soul into winning this war. If she lived to the day of the final battle, nothing would be able to keep her from standing at Harry's side when he faced down Voldemort once and for all.

Lost in her own inner musings, she was startled when Harry gently shook her shoulder to tell her to come to class.

"'Mione, come on, we're going to be late for Potions," said Harry.

"Yeah, Snape'll give us detention till Christmas if we show up late," Ron added.

"Of course; sorry, boys, let's go then, shall we?" Hermione answered.

So the Golden Trio – united once more – traipsed off towards the dungeons and their least favourite class. Potions dragged by for the Gryffindors, and Hermione had never felt so eager for a class to be over in her life. If it wasn't bad enough that it was the first class of the morning, it just _had_ to be a double period as well. It was by far the most awkward one-and-a-half hours she had been forced to endure for some time. During the entire time, Hermione tried desperately to avoid Professor Snape's gaze, though not entirely successfully.

The instant the bell rang, she bolted for the door, not even waiting for the boys. By the time they caught up with her, they were already half-way to Transfiguration.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, what's the rush? I mean, I hate Snape too, but really!" exclaimed Ron as he jogged up to her.

"Yeah, 'Mione, I've never seen you so eager to get out of a class before," Harry agreed, giving her a curious look.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it boys… come on, don't want to be late for Transfiguration, do we?" Hermione replied, neatly ignoring their questions.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Ron said, still confused by Hermione's strange behaviour.

And so the rest of the day passed uneventfully. Hermione's mind, however, drifted more than usual in her classes. She could not get the events of yesterday out of her mind. It was so strange, Professor Snape had seemed almost kind… "almost" being the operative word.

* * *

Unfortunately, Wednesday passed too soon, and before Hermione knew it, she was standing outside the Room of Requirement with an intense feeling of dread. If there was one thing that Hermione hated more than anything, it was failure... at anything. Lately, her progress in Occlumency seemed to have stopped short; or rather, it was deteriorating. It was infuriating to her! Giving herself a mental shake, she steeled herself for another couple hours of hard work as she entered the room.

"Miss Granger," Snape said with a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Professor Snape," she replied calmly.

Then, without any warning, he suddenly plunged into her mind. Hermione snapped into defensive mode almost on reflex and poured all her strength into warding him out. In a few moments, Snape was forcefully thrown out of her mind with such strength that he nearly collapsed.

"I see you've been practicing; good," he said coolly, as he composed himself.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione replied demurely.

"Again!"

They passed the next two hours in a similar manner, with Hermione improving by small amounts each time. After one particular attack, they took a quick water break. It was important that Hermione take breaks in order to give her mind a few moments' rest. Not doing so could result in serious damage, as the mind is a delicate thing. It was during one of these breaks that Snape confronted her about their 'meeting' by the Forest.

"I trust you no longer venture near the forest on your jogs, Miss Granger?" he asked nonchalantly.

"No, sir," she replied obediently.

"Good," he said.

Then, after a short pause, he casually said, "Are you in the habit of attacking anyone who approaches you without seeing first whether they mean you harm or not?"

"I- I- no, sir; sorry, sir. I didn't mean to attack you; I was merely startled. It was a reflexive reaction."

"Indeed. Have you been formally taught hand-to-hand combat?" he questioned in the same cool manner.

"No, sir… I learned out of necessity, when the opportunity presented itself. Needless to say, I could have done without the lesson."

"I see… no training whatsoever?" he persisted.

"No, sir… may I ask why you are so interested in whether or not I have been formally taught?" Hermione questioned cautiously.

"Suffice it to say, I was… surprised… by your quick reflexes and precision," he replied carefully.

"Oh… thank you," she said, in shock that Professor _Snape_ had just complimented her. Granted, it was a rather carefully stated compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.

"All right; again!" he stated, abruptly switching back into attacking mode.

It was silently but mutually agreed that the events of Monday were not to be discussed or allowed to affect their lessons, and so the lesson passed in a state of normalcy that was undeniably appreciated by both mentor and student. As Hermione left that night, she could not help but wonder at Professor Snape's strange behaviour. The thought that he would ever speak to her in a less than threatening or snarky manner was shocking, but for him to have actually _complimented_ her was completely out of character, or so she thought.

* * *

The rest of the week passed in relative peace. Hermione's lessons progressed well and the oddity of Professor Snape's behaviour was soon forgotten as he once again slipped back into his "evil Potions master" persona. Time passed quickly, and soon there was only one week left before the Christmas holidays. As everyone else slipped into the giddy, festive spirit that usually accompanied the holidays, Hermione sank deeper and deeper into herself. This would be the first Christmas without her mother and sister. In short, Hermione had little or no desire to return home. The mere thought of returning to her childhood home was repulsive to Hermione; it would do nothing more than remind her of those who would no longer be there.

"Hey, 'Mione!" Ron called out cheerfully as Hermione passed through the common room.

Hermione nodded in acknowledgment but continued on her way out without saying a word.

"Hey, wait up, can we talk?" he persisted.

Hermione sent him a side-long glance, nodding slowly in consent but not stopping.

"Great!" he replied, excited that she had actually agreed to talk to him. "So, I was thinking, what are your plans for the Christmas holidays this year?"

"Nothing… I'm staying here," Hermione replied dully.

"Oh… what about your dad?" Ron asked confused.

"What about him?"

"Don't ya wanna spend Christmas with him? I mean, it being your first one… after what happened and all," Ron stuttered out anxiously.

Then, in an instant, before he could even blink, Ron was slammed into the nearest wall. Hermione pinned him there with one hand at his throat and a mad glint in her eye.

"Don't you _ever_ talk to me about 'what happened' as you so kindly put it: Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear. Ronald?" she snarled viciously.

"Uh… um… yeah, crystal clear, 'Mione… I'm sorry! I just meant that maybe if you wanted someplace to stay, we'd be happy to have you at the Burrow, is all… I didn't mean to make you mad… sorry," he said nervously, eyeing her as if she were an angry hippogriff.

"Oh… sorry, Ronald… I didn't mean to attack you like that," Hermione said, snapping out of the angry haze that she had just been in. She carefully removed her hand from Ron's throat and stepped back five paces.

"Look, I'm sorry I freaked out like that… and thank you for the offer, Ronald, but I think I'd rather stay here."

"Oh, yeah, s'okay. Don't worry about it… I'll see ya later, 'Mione," he said before he scampered off back to the safety of the common room.

* * *

Hermione didn't know what was wrong with herself; the incident with Ron earlier had really shaken her. It was as though, in that instant, she wasn't even herself. The action was so instinctive, it felt like it happened before she even had time to think. All in all, it was strange.

Yet Ronald had a point… since her 'rescue' she had spoken to her father a grand total of three times. She had no inclination to see or speak to him, and as harsh as that sounded, it was simply too difficult. It was like a stark reminder of what she had lost and what she could never have again… a family. So, as guilty as she felt, she shut him out. It was easier, and she rationalized it by telling herself that they were both better off that way.

So this is how Hermione found herself alone on the first day of the Christmas holidays, the only sixth year Gryffindor left. Even Harry had gone off to the Burrow, and while the invitation still stood, Hermione had no wish to be surrounded by a large happy family at such a time. She had no way of knowing that the two-week break would set in motion the events of the years to come.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please. :)_


	10. Flowing Gems of Purity

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 10 – Flowing Gems of Purity

The day started out blissfully quiet in the sixth year girls' dormitory. For once, Hermione was free of the incessant chatter that spewed like an endless stream from the mouths of the other girls. Refreshed by this, Hermione went about with her usual morning routine and went for a quick jog before returning to shower. Once these morning rituals were over, she noticed it was already time for lunch and made her way down to the Great Hall. Upon entering, she couldn't help but notice the remarkably few number of students present for the holidays at Hogwarts this year. It seemed that Professor Dumbledore was of the same opinion and had decided to move all the house and staff tables, choosing instead to have one single table for all the students and teachers to share. It was strange to see the Great Hall so empty, occupied with nothing more than one large table and a Christmas tree. Hermione made her way over to the table slowly, noticing that it was already occupied by several students and teachers.

"Ah, Hermione, do come and join us for lunch, my dear," Professor Dumbledore exclaimed in a jovial manner.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she replied, nodding slightly at him.

As she went to take a seat she noticed that there was a rather large gap between the students and Professor Snape, while there was no such distance between any of the other teachers and students. Hermione decided that instead of squeezing between the other younger students or teachers, she could just as easily sit near the Potions master.

As she sat down, she received startled looks and curious glances from both the staff and students. The only people who did not seem surprised by her choice of seating were the Headmaster and Professor Snape himself. Nevertheless, lunch was a quiet affair. Most of the students remaining this year were in fourth year or below, with a few fifth, sixth and seventh years scattered in between. The students all seemed too nervous to talk as they normally would; likely a result of their close proximity to the professors. Granted, their strange silence could also be attributed to the harsh glares they were periodically receiving from Professor Snape. Hermione, however, was not fazed by sitting so near the staff, nor was she discomforted by her close proximity to the fearsome Potions master; in fact, she was quite pleased with the sudden and rare quiet that encompassed the Great Hall.

The meal passed in blissful silence, and the students scurried off as soon as was acceptable. Hermione found this amusing, and thought reminiscently back to those blissful years when she too had naïvely idolized, worshipped, and even feared her beloved professors. Perhaps it was the odd feeling of being alone at Christmas that caused all of her recent nostalgia. It seemed as though the world had changed so drastically during those months she was gone, when in reality the world at large had not been altered at all… no, the change she felt came from within. It was as though the Death Eaters had, while sparing her life, killed the joyful, carefree spirit she once had, leaving behind an empty shell, one with no other goal than pure, sweet revenge.

* * *

Hermione spent the afternoon wandering along the hallways in a somewhat dazed manner. She was caught in a sudden bout of nostalgia and found herself reminiscing about all the relatively carefree times she had spent in the school while trying desperately not to let her thoughts drift to the darker recesses of her mind. She wandered aimlessly, letting her feet guide her, only to find herself some time later in strange hallway, deep in the depths of the school dungeons. Not entirely sure how she had come to be there, she decided to explore.

The corridor seemed long deserted, as if no one had ventured there in years. It was dark, like many of the underground tunnels of the school, but had an eerie glow that seemed to emanate from the walls, which were jagged and well worn, yet the stones below her feet were smooth, evenly cut, and polished like marble. The effect was interesting, like a cross between old and new.

There were no portraits adorning these halls, and upon looking up, she noticed strange patterns on the ceiling. There were intricate designs that vaguely resembled Celtic knots. In fact, upon closer inspection, she noticed that the walls did not exactly glow _per se_ but had tiny well-like holes that were filled with some kind of glowing blue substance, enough to light the way in an eerie glow.

Intrigued, Hermione continued down the hallway, which seemed to beckon her. The corridor appeared to stretch endlessly, and the patterns from the ceiling bled down over the walls the farther she walked along the hall. Hermione lightly trailed her finger tips along the wall, tracing the designs with her fingers as she walked. What she failed to notice, however, was that every time she touched a line, it would flare a brilliant emerald green, glowing much like the blue substance in the walls.

A little way down, Hermione stopped abruptly at the sight of a massive arch. It was here that she noticed the glowing green substance as the colour seeped in, filling the carvings and winding its way around the archway. Hermione stepped back in shock. The glow faded when it completed its course around the arch, only to flash silver. Then, like an overflowing river, molten silver poured from the carvings, coating the wall under the arch in shimmering silver fluid.

As if in a trance, Hermione reached her hand out towards the shimmering wall, throwing caution to the wind as she was lured towards the molten arch. The instant her fingers touched the silver, she pulled back, her fingertips coated in thick silver fluid, not unlike Unicorn blood. Though it looked like molten silver, in reality it was not hot at all; on the contrary, it was actually rather cool. She passed her hand along the wall again, relishing the feel of the smooth silver liquid. It was refreshing, much like a cool spray of water on a hot summer's day. Drawn to the arch, Hermione stepped closer, reaching out to the wall which seemed to call to her longingly. This time, when her fingers touched the liquid, they passed through, as though a passageway had opened behind the waterfall of liquid silver. Hesitantly, she passed her arm through the sheet of silver, a flicker of doubt passing through her mind for the first time. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, plunging through it.

She stepped through and opened her eyes, only to find herself in an elaborate-looking circular room. The room was large, with a massive domed ceiling and floors of brilliant white marble with emerald green and sapphire blue swirls embedded in it. There were majestic columns entwined with lush green ivy lining the room.

Hermione turned to look behind her and saw that the passageway looked the same as it did from the other side. Satisfied that she could still get out, she started walking along the perimeter of the room. In one corner there was a long mirror which caught her eye. It was not the mirror itself that caught her attention, it was the reflection that met her eyes. There she stood, her reflection the same as it had always been, except she noticed that her hair was now coated in the thick silver at the ends. The droplets slid slowly down her shoulders, shimmering softly before disappearing. It cast a glow around her, giving her an ethereal appearance, purifying her in a way she had not felt for many months.

Tearing her glance away from the mirror, Hermione continued her explorations. There was not much in the room, but the designs from outside adorned these walls as well, leading her to believe there could be more rooms and doors hidden amongst the carvings. Hermione was so entranced with her new discovery that she hardly noticed how much time had passed. Only the sudden pang from her stomach reminded her that perhaps she ought to leave her explorations for another day.

Sighing, she stepped back through the archway, retreating back along the way she came. The doorway disappeared after she walked away, the silver turning back into green and retracting as though it were following her. Upon reaching the beginning of the hallway, Hermione turned and looked back at the hall. Now it only had a faint blue glow to it, as though someone had lit their wand with a lumos at the end of the corridor. Turning once again, Hermione retraced her steps through the dungeons back to the main part of the castle, deep in thought.

So engrossed was she in her thoughts, she hardly noticed the looming figure of the Potions master, who was fast approaching her.

"Miss Granger," came the sharp voice of her professor.

"Hmm? What… Oh, good evening, professor; how can I help you?" Hermione replied calmly.

He merely quirked an eyebrow at her, before enquiring accusingly where she had been at dinner.

"Is dinner over already? I'm afraid I lost track of time, sir," she replied coolly.

"Indeed. Do you have any idea what time it is, Miss Granger?" he asked, the smug demand clear in his tone.

"Seven, sir?" Hermione wagered casually, not having the slightest clue as to what time it was.

"Hardly. It might interest you to know that it is currently 12:30, over two hours past your curfew," he sneered.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Hermione asked, shocked from her half-dazed state upon hearing the time.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor; get to your dormitory now before I remove any more," he barked.

"Yes, sir," she replied demurely, still surprised that so much time had passed without her noticing.

Had she been that preoccupied, that she failed to notice ten _hours_ pass her by? That corridor had entranced her so much that the time literally flown by, yet she wasn't tired in the least. On the contrary, she felt energetic and oddly enough, peaceful for the first time in months.

Thoroughly astonished by the events of the day, Hermione returned to her tower, following the same route she had for the past five years. Upon reaching her room, she got ready for bed, feeling strangely relaxed. Not five minutes after she lay down, her eyes drifted closed, and she slipped away into a deep, peaceful, and blissfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please. :)_


	11. Gatherings

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 11 - Gatherings

The following day, Hermione woke up early with a renewed sense of determination. She felt like her old self again; energetic and excited as to what the day would bring. She strode to the washroom and contemplated how to approach her day as she took a nice, leisurely shower. She approached the Great Hall with a look of contentment and happily seated herself next to Professor Snape, going so far as to issue a relatively cheerful "good morning" to the table in general. With that, she calmly reached for the jug of pumpkin juice and started away on her breakfast. What she failed to notice was the rather obvious gaping of the rest of the staff and students. Even the unflappable Severus Snape looked at her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hermione, for her part, was feeling rather content and well rested. Her night had been peaceful and very much dreamless. She felt rejuvenated in a way that made her feel happy and carefree. She munched away on her breakfast, before randomly striking up a conversation with Professor McGonagall.

"How are you this morning, Professor? Lovely day, isn't it?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes... yes, it is, my dear. My, it certainly is delightful to see you smile again, Hermione," she replied with a fond smile.

"Why thank you, Professor. Anyway, I'm off! Have a good day!" Hermione chirped as she got up and waved goodbye to everyone.

* * *

_Back in the Great Hall…_

"Merlin save me, she seems almost like the old Hermione!" Minerva exclaimed dramatically.

"Indeed, she did, didn't she? I wonder what caused the change…." Albus mused thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Severus, my boy, what do you think?"

"I don't have an opinion on the matter, Headmaster; I assume she is just having a good morning," he said dryly.

"Oh, now, really… that's hardly a reasonable explanation!" Minerva objected spiritedly.

"Must there be a reason? Cannot the girl just be happy for the sake of being happy?" Severus responded quirking an eyebrow.

"Of course she can, but it just doesn't make sense!" she insisted.

"Emotions rarely do," he responded shortly. "Now, excuse me, I don't have time for this ridiculous speculating; unlike the rest of you, _I_ actually have work to do," he replied, standing swiftly before sweeping out of the Hall with his usual flair.

"Hmph! Well, he needn't get all uppity with me," Minerva complained, with a frown.

"Perhaps he has a point though? Maybe Hermione's good mood is nothing but chance," Albus said. "After all, what could possibly happen in such a short period of time to alter her mood so greatly?"

"Oh, I suppose... but I for one certainly hope it lasts," Minerva stated resolutely.

* * *

_In the dungeons…_

Severus, for his part, was actually not as disinterested in Hermione's change as he seemed. He knew for a fact that she was not in the best of moods yesterday morning, but was also acutely aware of her mental state later that evening. He had not forgotten his rather unexpected run-in with the young woman in the corridors late last night. Actually, she had seemed distracted and well… just _off_ that night. Perhaps that was in some way connected to her strange behaviour this morning. Nevertheless, he had potions to brew and things to do, which left very little time for contemplating the mental state of his students, least of all a Gryffindor.

* * *

Hermione's first thought after breakfast was to head over to the library. The hallway she had found was so strange that only now, the morning after, was she realizing the oddity of her discovery. She could not recall anything even _remotely_ similar to this place being recorded in _Hogwarts, A History_ or any other book for that matter. Her younger self may have been appalled at the thought of something like this not being recorded in her favourite book, but the Hermione of today was not so naïve. She now knew that there was much about the school which was not recorded in that particular volume. Perhaps for the better... these things should not be provided too easily but most likely would have to be searched for; much like anything worth having. So, with that thought in mind, Hermione strode purposefully towards the library in hopes of spending the day in relaxing and somewhat mindless research.

When she reached the library, Madam Pince threw her an odd look as she continued on her way. Just to be sure, Hermione picked up a copy of Hogwarts, A History, in the hope that perhaps the book would have some subtle clues that she could go off of. She picked up several other books as well before making her way towards 'her table', which was nicely situated in the far back corner, away from distraction and blissfully surrounded by the age-old tomes that most did not deem worthy of their attention.

* * *

_Malfoy Manor…_

Draco Malfoy sat in his room, idly wishing he were back in the safe sanctuary of the Slytherin dorm in Hogwarts. Unfortunately, he was currently in the house of the madman whom he called father.

_And to think, I used to wish I could be just like him_, his conscience mocked bitterly.

It was true though. Once upon a time, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy was glorified and revered by his dutiful son. Unfortunately, those illusions were shattered by the time Draco grew old enough to be able to think for himself. Of course, Lucius couldn't know that… if he did, well – suffice it to say, that Draco would have already been reunited with his mother.

A harsh knock on his door startled Draco from his thoughts as he scrambled so as to appear to have been studying.

"Come in," he called, as he turned to look at his guest.

"Studying, son? Good, maybe this term you won't be bested by some Mudblood bitch… but I doubt it; once a failure, always a failure... See that you prove me wrong, boy," Lucius sneered disdainfully at his son.

"My apologies, father. I will strive to meet your expectations this term," Draco responded respectfully.

Suddenly, sooner than he could blink, his head whipped around, searing with the force of his father's blow. There was a sickening crack as Lucius' cane made contact with Draco's face.

"One, Malfoys do not apologise; in order to apologise, you must have done something wrong. Secondly, you should not be merely _meeting_ my expectations, you should be easily able to exceed them," Lucius spat viciously.

Then, just as Draco turned his head to look at his father again, his face whipped in the opposite direction, as his father's cane connected with the other side of his face, effectively making his wounds symmetrical. _Even in his beatings, he has artistic sense,_ Draco thought bitterly.

"That, boy, was for being a failure and disgrace to the Malfoy name. Sometimes I wonder if you really are my son and not some bastard child Narcissa found. See that the Mudblood does not best you again," he snarled, before swiftly leaving the room.

On his way out the door he called out. "Oh, and Draco, we are having guests for tea. I expect you to be presentable and punctual; be down by 3:00, do _not_ be late, or I will be _seriously displeased._"

"Yes, father," he ground out, between the flaring pain in his face and the raging anger that bubbled just below the surface.

"Great; first he tells me how much of a failure I am, then beats the crap out of me, then tells me to join him for a goddamn tea party with some stupid, bloody guests," Draco muttered darkly. "My day just keeps getting better…."

* * *

_Hogwarts – four hours later… _

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she put yet another book into her "nothing" pile. Four hours of solid research had afforded her nothing by way of information. It seemed as though there was no record of the place at all; as if it were only as real as her imagination. No, she knew it was not just her mind playing games with her, but there didn't even seem to be an inkling of indication as to this place's existence.

Finally, she decided that another approach might yield better results. Perhaps there would be some information about the mirror. At first, the thought that it may have been the mirror of Erised crossed her mind, but thinking back she knew it was not. For if it were, it would have shown her beloved family – mother, father, and her baby sister, for that is what her greatest desire was now. Not being Head girl next year, not winning any awards, just having her family back. Therefore, she could safely rule out that option. There had been something strange about it though. It was as if it revealed her essence in her image, or perhaps, there was nothing special about it at all, and the aura was a result of the silver liquid dripping from her hair. That was yet another thing that sparked her curiosity. What was that silver fluid? It was thick and viscous, but had a lightness about it, as though its many properties contradicted each other. With those thoughts in mind, Hermione faithfully returned to her research. However, unbeknownst to her, there was a silent figure watching her and just as she returned to work, the figure slipped silently back into the shadows.

After another hour of working, Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she felt the unmistakable prickling of someone's eyes watching her. Upon glancing up, she noticed a sleek black raven seated quietly on the chair opposite to her. In its beak was a note.

"Hello, beautiful… is that for me?" Hermione queried softly.

The bird cocked its head to the right, surveying her in a distinctly appraising manner, before hopping onto the desk and depositing the letter in front of her. It then silently flew off, before Hermione had even so much of a chance as to say thank you.

Opening the note, Hermione immediately recognized Professor Snape's elegant yet spidery script.

_Miss Granger,_

_Since school is no longer in session, I believe we should increase the frequency of your extra lessons. You are at the point in our sessions where the additional time is necessary. Be prepared to meet on a daily basis. Be at the room at 7:00 pm sharp tonight. _

_I do not tolerate tardiness._

_Prof. S. Snape_

After reading the note, Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance, but understood the reasonable nature of his 'suggestion.' It was true, with most of the students gone she could devote more time to mastering Occlumency unfortunately this time would take away from the research she was currently doing. Perhaps the holidays would be more hectic than she had anticipated.

* * *

_Malfoy Manor – 2:30 pm_

Draco had managed to repair his bones and deal with the other injuries on his face in a matter of an hour or so. Surprisingly, he was also able to make some progress in his studies, and was blissfully free of interruptions for much of the afternoon. He was dressed and ready, looking every bit the 'Slytherin Prince' as he paced his room. When his father demanded that he be on time for their afternoon tea, he meant just that. Draco was expected to arrive in the main parlour at exactly 3:00 p.m. sharp, not a minute before and certainly under no circumstances, a minute late. It was a lesson he learned at a very young age. His father did not tolerate delay, but equally did not tolerate an early arrival, it was considered 'socially contemptible' in his eyes. So it was at precisely 2:54 p.m. that Draco left his room and calmly made his way downstairs knowing it would take him exactly five minutes and thirty seconds to reach the parlour. The final thirty seconds he would spend taking a quick look in the hallway mirror to assure himself that he looked presentable, before walking in and taking his place next to his father. It was a procedure he had completed far too many times before, and had eventually perfected his timing, so as not to be loitering in the hallway on the off chance that his father caught him being earlier than he ought to be.

Draco strode into the parlour and issued a courteous nod of acknowledgement accompanied by a stiff "father" before turning to face the fireplace just in time to see it blaze green, indicating the arrival of their guests.

The guests turned out to be a number of Death Eaters, not that Draco was in any way surprised about this. However, his eyes lit up upon seeing his godfather among the group. Draco went through the motions of greeting his guests, before eagerly approaching his godfather.

"Uncle Severus, always a pleasure to see you, how are you?" Draco inquired fondly.

"Good afternoon, Draco; I'm fine thank you, and yourself? How are you enjoying your holidays?" Severus replied in an oddly pleasant tone.

"Rather well, thank you. I was just completing the Potions essay you had assigned to us."

"Indeed? Well I'm sure it is well written; yours usually are. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for your classmates."

"Ha, I can imagine. I don't know how you can bring yourself to grade those abominations that students call papers, godfather" Draco responded amiably.

"Mmm, don't remind me. It's enough to drive even the kindest hearted into exasperation, let alone me. Excuse me Draco, I believe your father wishes to speak with me."

"Of course, it was a pleasure to see you"

Severus gave Draco a gracious nod, before manoeuvring his way over to see Lucius.

* * *

Severus was no fool. He knew the details that surrounded Narcissa's death and was also acutely aware of the way Lucius treated his son. Severus was not a Potions master for nothing; he could smell the vague scent of bruise balm that Draco had recently used. Even though the potion is meant to be odourless, there were slight scents that only trained individuals would notice. Severus was seething inside, knowing that whatever Lucius had done to Draco, it was both recent and serious enough that Draco would have to resort to using a potion. Most minor injuries and small bruises could easily be concealed with a spell, but now was not the time for him to be scrutinizing the situation.

"Hello, Lucius, might I inquire as to the reason behind this particular gathering" Severus asked as he approached the elder Malfoy.

"Now, now, Severus my old friend, do I need a reason to engage the company of my closest friends?" Lucius drawled arrogantly.

"Of course not, I merely assumed you had a particular purpose in mind; you are not known for throwing 'tea parties' on a whim."

"Indeed, perceptive as always, brother."

"Naturally," Severus acquiesced with a slight nod.

"I have a matter which I would like to discuss with our Lord's inner circle, and a 'tea party' as you put it, is innocuous enough so as not to draw any unwanted attention – merely a gathering of friends if you will," Lucius stated before he excused himself in order to address his guests.

"My friends, thank you all for coming, please enjoy yourselves, tea will be served shortly," Lucius announced.

Severus decided that this would be an excellent opportunity to catch up on any 'interesting' news and proceeded to make his rounds of the room.

"Hello, Severus, enjoying time away from that meddling old fool?" came the simpering voice of Severus' least favourite female.

"Quite, thank you for asking, Bellatrix," Severus replied politely. Unfortunately he had no choice but to be courteous to Bellatrix Lestrange, not only due to the fact that she was one of the Dark Lord's favourites, but also because she was Narcissa's sister and consequently, Draco's aunt.

"I must confess, Severus, I haven't a clue how you manage to put up with all those miscreant children for so long."

"Painfully."

"I'd imagine so. We missed you at the last revel… ahh, my darling Severus, it has been far too long since we last saw you participate. Really, you do so much work and never seem to get the chance to enjoy yourself, I'll suggest it to our Lord the next time I see him," Bellatrix said as though she were doing Severus some great favour.

"Don't put yourself out. I hardly require any favours from you," Severus countered.

"Or perhaps… I could see to your relaxation in a more, shall I say, pleasurable manner?" She continued in a seductive tone.

"And what would your husband have to say about that?" he queried.

"Never mind him, he is of no concern," she dismissed casually.

"Regardless, I must respectfully decline," Severus replied before calmly walking away, hopefully towards one of the less despicable attendees of this gathering.

An hour later, Lucius once again called the group together, and after dismissing his son, proceeded on to the business portion of this meeting.

"The reason I have called upon you all, is to discuss a matter which has come to my attention. You will notice that only the inner most circle of our associates are present, this is a matter which will not reach the lower ranks of our, shall I say, organization. This is a matter that the Dark Lord has assigned me to take care of as I see fit. This matter I speak of is with regards to the events of the summer. I'm sure most of you remember the rather _pleasant_ stay the Mudblood had with us?" Lucius sneered viciously as he allowed time for the others cackle and relish in their 'fond' memories of Miss Granger's 'stay' with the Death Eaters.

"I have it on good authority that our little Mudblood is rather, distant nowadays. Perhaps the same sort of treatment ought to be bestowed on some of those filthy blood traitors as well," Lucius continued. "These are long term plans I speak of, ones that will not be implemented until the spring break at earliest. I propose that we initiate a raid during the break and acquaint ourselves with the youngest two Weasleys a bit better."

"Ooh really Lucius? You know how I adore raids like that… there would be no harm in playing with the other Weasleys too would there?" Bellatrix asked dreamily.

"Of course not, Bella, my dear, you may play with the other Weasleys as much as you'd like," Lucius responded fondly

"Mmhmm, I certainly wouldn't mind _entertaining_ the Weasley girl, I had such fun with the Mudblood," Nott declared lecherously

"Ah, I can agree with you there… Granger certainly was a feisty one," Lucius grinned.

The other men all laughed and proceeded to discuss their various conquests of Miss Granger in disgusting detail. Severus promptly tuned them out, so as not to get angry beyond control. He was already fuming, with anger burning far closer to the surface than he would like. It took a good portion of his self control not to blast everyone in the room into tiny pieces.

"Now, now, let's not get off track, regardless of how amusing those memories are… we need not make any decisions now, but we do need to start making some preliminary plans. Severus, our Lord has specifically requested you to find information on what our little Gryffindors are planning for the break. I expect all of you who have children attending Hogwarts to also inform them to keep an ear open. Mcnair, Avery, I want the two of you to keep a watch on Weasley at the Ministry, as will I. The rest of you are to come up with possible plans, and perhaps find a way to stage something that will draw the little brats out," Lucius said, calmly giving out the orders for the group.

"Ah, I might as well inform you all now, I am having a bit of a gathering towards the end of the holidays, you will all receive official invitations later in the week, but do keep your schedules open… I guarantee it will be, _enjoyable_. I can promise you a few rather excellent pieces of entertainment that I've been preparing," Nott announced loftily.

"Well, my friends, that concludes our business for today. You are welcome to stay and socialize here, however," Lucius declared benevolently as his guests resumed their discussions and returned to their vicious discussions about the 'pleasures' of new prey.

"I'm afraid I will have to take leave of you now, Lucius, I have much to do at the school yet," Severus said bidding Lucius goodbye as he tried to make as quick an escape as possible.

"Come now, brother, leaving so soon? I would think you would relish the time away from the doddering old man," Lucius said in an attempt to convince Severus to stay.

"Indeed I would, however, I do have much work to do and can only do that now while all those infernal children are gone. I will, however, see Draco before I leave. Thank you for the enjoyable afternoon, Lucius,"

"Of course, of course… 'tis a shame you are stuck in that blasted school. For the good of the cause though, ah well… yes, I'm sure Draco will be pleased to see you, how is he doing in school?"

"Excellent as always, brother. Draco is a remarkably bright boy," Severus complimented honestly.

"Don't be foolish and blinded by your affection for my failure of a son, Severus. If he was truly a bright boy, he would not be continuously bested by some slip of a girl, a Mudblood no less," Lucius sneered disdainfully.

"Now, Lucius, don't be so harsh, the difference in their marks is essentially negligible, and the only reason Granger has higher marks than him is that she is an insufferable teacher's pet," Severus replied calmly, despite the fact that he was lying through his teeth. Draco was a bright boy to be sure, but Granger was different, she was a true academic.

"Nevertheless, Draco should easily be able to outsmart the girl, but anyway, I won't keep you my friend, I know you are a busy man,"

"Indeed, I'll say goodbye to Draco and see myself out, good day, Lucius,"

"Good day, Severus,"

* * *

Draco heard a soft knock on his door, and knew immediately that it was not his father. Lucius would not be nearly as courteous. "Come in" Draco called, curious as to whom his visitor would be.

"Draco, I was just leaving, I thought I'd check in on you first though" Severus said as he stepped into his godson's room.

"Uncle Severus, do you have to leave already?" Draco asked, wishing desperately that the older man would stay.

"Unfortunately… how are you though, Draco?" Severus asked as he looked at his face searchingly.

"All right, same as always, I suppose... have the other guests left?"

"No, I am the first to leave. I was thinking, I have a few projects I am working on, perhaps if you would not mind leaving early, you could spend the latter half of your holidays at school. I would welcome your assistance, and it would certainly give you good experience," Severus offered, giving Draco an easy escape from the Malfoy hell hole he was currently residing in.

"Thank you, godfather, you are as generous as always… I would be honoured to assist you. However, I must consult with father before I can give you a final answer," Draco replied respectfully, secretly overjoyed at the opportunity.

"Very good. I will propose the idea to your father at a later date, you need not broach the topic. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes uncle. Thank you, it will be nice to spend some time with you as my godfather rather than as my professor."

"Indeed. Well then, I'll allow you to return to your studies… I will be in touch shortly."

"I look forward to it," Draco replied.

As soon as Severus was out the door, Draco collapsed onto his bed in relief. Now if only he could go for the next week or so without angering his father too much. Draco never thought he'd see the day when he was happy to return to school, but the day had inevitably come. Not for the first time, Draco wished that Severus was his father rather than Lucius. With these thoughts in mind, Draco returned to his essays, hoping to finish them as soon as possible so as not to give his father another excuse to berate him on his unworthiness.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please. :)_


	12. Simple Gifts

_Hey all! _

_I've FINALLY re-uploaded my cleaner, grammatically correct, beta-ed version of this chapter! HUGE thanks to AmyLouise for her awesome beta skills  
_

_For new readers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy this fic!_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 12 – Simple Gifts

Hermione eventually gave up on her research and chose to go for a nice long jog to rid herself of all the frustration that comes from a fruitless search. It would not do for her to be so keyed up before encountering the dour Potions master for her lesson. She enjoyed a pleasant jog followed by a leisurely shower on account of none of the other 6th year girls being present. Hermione dressed in a pair of comfortable sweatpants, a simple t-shirt, and sweater before throwing on her robes and heading off to the room of requirement a little early.

She entered the room, which morphed into a comfortable looking, softly lit lounge with couches, a few tables, and several bookshelves which lined the walls. Hermione seated herself on one of the loveseats, taking off her robes and sweater in favour of being comfortable. As she sat down, soft music filtered in, relaxing her further. She let out a tired sigh and closed her eyes, allowing the music filter through and fill the empty crevices of her mind.

This is how Severus found her – curled up on the couch with a peaceful expression on her face, blissfully unaware of his presence. He was loath to disturb her from her state of ease. Severus was by no means a pleasant person, his demeanour was no act, but even he was not completely unfeeling. As he stood there and watched her, he felt a strange stab of sympathy mingled with guilt. It had been quite some time since he had seen her look so relaxed and at peace. Perhaps his musings were amplified by the things he had heard earlier in the day. Suddenly, he seemed to remember every filthy word his 'associates' had said about the woman before him. At that thought, his anger flared again, only this time he allowed it to show on his face as there was no one there to see it.

Giving himself a mental shake, Severus focussed back at the task on hand. He was here for a reason. Given the plans that Lucius was hoping to implement, Miss Granger would need to master Occlumency as soon as possible.

"Miss Granger, are you ready to begin your lessons for today?" Severus asked in a stern, but slightly softer tone than which he usually employed when speaking with his students.

Hermione started slightly at the unexpected sound of his voice. She opened her eyes and pulled herself away from the comfort of the couch to stand, before replying with an affirmative.

"Good, perhaps we shall keep this setting, it seems to make you comfortable, take a seat and we will begin," Severus said.

"All right, whenever you're ready, Professor," Hermione replied amiably as she settled back onto the couch, comfortably sitting with her legs crossed in the Indian style.

* * *

_Malfoy Manor_

"Draco, what have you been doing all day?" Lucius asked over dinner.

"I was finishing up my homework that was assigned over break," Draco replied promptly.

"Good. What did you and your Godfather talk about?"

"Nothing in particular, he asked how my break was going. We talked briefly about school."

"Tell me, how _is_ your break going?" Lucius asked in a deceptively calm tone.

"Rather well, thank you, father. I have mostly finished my schoolwork. It is nice to be home," Draco replied coolly, as though he were not lying through his teeth

"Indeed, I'm sure it is, see that you don't get too comfortable. Malfoys are never lazy," Lucius said as he continued with his meal.

"Yes, Father."

The rest of the meal passed in formal silence. Draco excused himself at the appropriate time, and returned to his room. Dealing with Lucius was difficult. Every action, word or gesture had to be precisely timed and executed. Draco knew that in order to be excused and not be questioned, it would have to be at the opportune moment. If he attempted to leave too soon after the meal, his father would assume that he was trying to 'escape' his presence. If he took too long to excuse himself, Draco would invariably be asked to participate in something illegal, painful, gruesome or something generally unpleasant. This included being drawn into a conversation with his father. If there was one thing Draco avoided – aside from angering Lucius – it was being forced to actually converse with his father about anything other than school or family. These conversations were always doomed to end in either Draco being told he was a disgrace and being beaten, or with Lucius telling Draco that he better smarten up and getting beaten. So essentially, it was a lose-lose situation.

Draco returned to his room carefully locking and warding his door in the process. The manor was protected by various charms and wards, including those that will prevent underage magic from being detected. It was one of the perks of being a ridiculously wealthy wizard.

He wished desperately that his godfather would speak to his father soon about his plans to get Draco out of the Manor. If there was anyone who could convince his father of anything, it was Severus Snape.

Before his father went crazy and completely evil, Severus and Lucius were like brothers. Then something happened that led to Lucius losing all semblance of a conscience. Draco had no idea what could possibly make a man like Lucius go mad, but it happened. That's not to say that Lucius was a stellar person to begin with, but he was marginally less twisted and dark. There was a time, so long ago, that Lucius was actually pleased to have a son, now, it seemed that Draco only existed for the sake of the Malfoy name, and to provide a good alibi. However, that was a time so long ago that Draco could hardly remember it.

Deciding it was fruitless to mope about that which could not be changed, Draco settled down at his desk. There was much about Draco that no one knew, least of all his friends. Draco was not a simple minded boy, like much of the other occupants of Hogwarts. He had interests that ranged well beyond Quidditch and girls. There were only two people who knew of his fascination and love for sketching, although that number had now dropped to one. His mother, Narcissa, had taught Draco at a young age how to draw. It was something that Lucius did not approve of, so she taught him in secret. Now, years later, he had cultivated the art and continued to sketch in secret.

If Lucius ever found out, there would be hell to pay, which is why the only other person who knew of Draco's hobby was his godfather. So it was that Draco settled down at his desk, carefully reaching into the bottom drawer, behind the hidden compartment, to retrieve his drawing supplies.

He opened his sketch pad to a fresh sheet, before carefully opening his set of charcoals. After gazing thoughtfully out the window for a few moments, he picked up a piece of charcoal, and with a series of confident strokes, began his newest creation.

* * *

_Hogwarts_

After two hours of solid work, Severus allowed Hermione a small break. She had been improving steadily, and this past session was further proof of that. Knowing that Hermione would likely be the target of another attack, Severus pondered how to broach the subject. He had observed her carefully over the course of the term, and was aware that she was more closed off than before. However, before Severus had the chance to say anything, Hermione was already talking.

"You are a champion dualist are you not Professor?" Hermione queried.

"I am. Why do you ask?" Severus replied stiffly to the seemingly random question.

"I realize that this may be much to ask, but I feel I am not as adept at defending myself as I should be, considering the circumstances. I wondered if perhaps you could train me in the area of physical defence in addition to the mental," She stated coolly.

There was a moment of silence, during which Severus pondered her request.

"Perhaps… considering your position, a greater level of skill in the area of defence would be advisable. I will discuss your request with the Headmaster before I make a decision," he replied carefully.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Be aware, Miss Granger, I will expect the same level of dedication, if not more, should I choose to train you," he warned giving her a sharp look.

"Of course, I understand," Hermione replied dutifully.

"Good. I believe that will be enough for today. You are progressing at an acceptable rate. Continue to do your exercises, and I will have a decision regarding your request when we meet again tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir."

With that, Hermione got up and left. She did not wish to push her luck and was surprised at how receptive he was to her proposition. She had expected to do a lot of explaining, and was pleasantly surprised to have gotten away with simply stating her case. Hermione went up to her room to get cleaned up before making her way back down to the Great Hall for dinner.

Hermione took her seat at the table next to Severus. The younger students were still awed by her 'bravery' at sitting so near the snarky professor and stared at her with wide eyes. The other professors found this amusing, as did she… Severus on the other hand, did not. He shot a particularly harsh glare at one of the 3rd year Ravenclaws who was blatantly staring at them. The poor thing cowered away, literally shaking in fear. It was amusing to Hermione, who could remember a time not too long ago when she too would have had a similar, albeit less visible, reaction to Professor Snape's glare.

The meal was passing quite peacefully when suddenly a large owl soared through an open window. Mail was not usually delivered during afternoon and evening meal times, which is why the occupants of the Great Hall looked upon the bird with surprise and curiosity. Said bird circled the table in an almost predatory manner, before dropping a large packet in front of Hermione.

"Don't touch that," came a stern command from her right.

"I agree, allow Severus to make sure it is safe, dear," Professor McGonagall advised.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said meekly.

Professor Snape quickly ran his wand over the package, and after a few moments deemed it safe to open.

"Aren't you going to open it, my dear?" the headmaster asked amiably.

"I don't see why not, Headmaster," Hermione replied, carefully lifting the packet off the table.

She was in fact, just as curious as the others. Who would send her something now, and more importantly what could possibly be sent to her at this time of day? With these thoughts running through her head she cautiously opened the package. Hermione was well aware that the entire table was focussing on her, some watching unobtrusively, while others were staring openly.

Looking inside she noticed a note and several thick sheets of paper. Curious, she pulled out the note first.

_My dearest,_

_Just a little parting gift, hope you enjoy them as much as I did._

_From one who enjoyed your company,_

_DE_

The note confused her, and apparently her professors as well. There was no one she had spent time with recently aside from the Potions master. Not to mention she couldn't think of anyone she knew with the initials DE. It obviously wasn't Draco Malfoy, although aside from Harry and Ron, he was the only one she had really talked to. Figuring she might as well see what was sent, Hermione pulled the papers out from within the packet.

Hermione took one glance at them and grew pale. Severus quirked an eyebrow at her when he noticed her shaking, while her other professors shot her concerned looks.

"Oh gods, I'm going to be sick," She muttered quietly.

Only those in her immediate vicinity heard her, including Severus. She wordlessly handed the papers, which were actually photographs, over to Severus before standing suddenly. Her eyes glazed over as she gazed across the table in a state of shock. She then turned abruptly and bolted out of the hall, knocking over her chair in the process.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please. :)_


	13. Visits and Worries

_Hey All! _

_I liiiiiiiiiive!!!! OMG I am SO INCREDIBLY SORRY!! I know I have been gone for a really long time, but I have had the absolute WORST case of writters block I have ever encountered. I went through a massive non-harrypotter phase, and just couldn't for the life of me get into any of my harry potter stories. I know that's probably an oft used excuse, but in this case it is very true. This on top of the fact that school has been insane and I took a really tough course this summer which sucked up most of the time that I wanted to write. I was hoping to get a couple chapters down over the 4 month summer break, but no such luck. Anyways, I seem to have found my inspiration again (sort of) and hopefully will be able to update more frequently. _

_For any readers (and reviewers) I may still have (regardless of how undeservedly), thank you so much for you patience and support. I hope you are still reading this, and enjoy this chapter. I know it seems kinda pointless, and is a bit of a filler-chap, but I just needed something to get me back into the flow of things. Hopefully the next chapter will be more eventful. Thank you again_

_Sincerely, _

_DeceptiveFates_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot  
_

* * *

Chapter 12 – Visits and Worries

_Three Days Later_

It seemed that whatever little progress Hermione had made over the last few months was swiftly and efficiently destroyed by that somewhat anonymous package. Needless to say, the photographs were immediately destroyed. Unfortunately the resulting situation was not so easily remedied.

Hermione immediately reverted back to how she was soon after her 'rescue'. She became virtually unresponsive, and stubbornly shunned all attempts that were made to approach her. She isolated herself so much so that she only barely responded when questions were posed to her. In short her behaviour was causing increasing levels of concern and worry among the staff.

The only positive thing to have come from this latest situation was that it renewed her determination to master Occlumency as she threw herself into the study more completely than she had before. This was saying something, since Hermione could never have been accused of slacking off, much less in study with Professor Snape of all people.

* * *

_Malfoy Manor_

Large eyes stared determinedly at the floor, as tiny feet shuffled forward towards the entrance of Lucius' study. A hesitant knock was answered with a slightly annoyed command for entrance.

"Sorry to be disturbing you Master but Professor Snape sir is here to see you. He is waiting in the main parlour Sir." The tiny elf stuttered out quickly

"I see very well, get out before I hex you, you filthy creature" Lucius snarled viciously giving the small elf a sharp jab with his cane before going out to see to his guest.

"Severus! What a wonderful surprise, how are you brother?" Lucius exclaimed as he strode into the room arrogantly.

"Lucius, pleasure to see you as always. I am well, and yourself?" Severus replied politely

"Oh fine fine, you know me, always busy. Tell me what's the occasion? You hardly drop by unannounced these days" Lucius said almost accusingly

"True, I have found myself incredibly busy in recent times. Surely you know how it is, what with trying to keep that fool Dumbledore satisfied and all that" Severus countered, smoothly pulling on his arrogant, death eater façade with practiced ease.

"Ah yes of course" Lucius granted 'good-naturedly' or at least as good-naturedly as a man like Lucius can be.

"I'll not beat around the bush with you Lucius, I have come about Draco. I have recently been devoting more time to the research that I have thus far neglected, and could use an extra pair of hands. Draco has shown me great potential and I think it would be beneficial for him to work on some real research and potions rather than the simpler potions that are covered in the curriculum. I realize your time with your son is limited and I am loathe to deprive you of that time, however in the face of his education I was hoping you would permit him to return to Hogwarts earlier than planned" Severus said purposefully

"I see…what sort of research would this be Severus?" Lucius asked pointedly

Severus smirked darkly before replying, "The sort that our Lord would most _certainly_ approve of. Naturally I will have a decoy project for the Headmaster's sake, but the real research would be of…shall we say, _unique_ value."

"Ahh…I see indeed. Well Severus I would trust no one else with my son's future but you my friend. If it would ease your burden and simultaneously thrust some useful knowledge into that boy's head, I could not object." Lucius answered

"So it's settled then? Perhaps I will come collect him in the morning, if that is not too soon of course" Severus said, being careful to defer the final decision to Lucius

"Very well. I'll inform him tonight at dinner. Do see that he behaves Severus, that boy has become alarmingly lax in recent times. Really I do wonder that he is a Malfoy at all at times" Lucius said with a disappointed sigh

"Don't be so hard on the boy Lucius, he's coming along rather well I think" Severus said mildly

"You're too soft on him brother. Don't let your love for the boy, cloud your judgement. It is undeniable that he is a disgrace to the family name. But I suppose we all do what we can, is it not so? Not to mention he is the only heir I've got so I suppose I'll have to put up with the disappointment of a son that I have" Lucius said in a disgusted manner

"I suppose you will" Severus said with an air of finality. He had no desire to discuss the topic any further, as it was already angering him enough to hear Lucius speak so crassly about his only child.

"Well, I shall not keep you my friend, though perhaps you will stay for tea?"

"Thank you Lucius, but I must respectfully decline. I merely came while taking a break from my research, I'm afraid I must return to my potions. Do tell Draco I'll be here for him tomorrow morning, around 9:00"

"Very well. I shall see you tomorrow then" Lucius said as he walked Severus to the front door

"Indeed, good day Lucius"

* * *

_Hogwarts_

Minerva McGonagall paced restlessly in front of the Headmasters' desk. Albus sat calmly watching as the normally stern professor wrung her hands in worry, wondering if she would eventually tire herself out and sit still.

"If you continue in that way Minerva, you are going to wear a hole into that lovely new rug" He commented mildly

"To hell with your blasted rug Albus! Can you not see that I am _worried_" she replied emphatically

"I can see that quite well my dear. Sit down and have some tea, you are not accomplishing anything by fretting over that which cannot be changed"

"Really Albus, how can you be so brash? That poor child has suffered enough, and yet even now they torture her. How much more can she handle? Already she is so altered that she is hardly recognizable!"

"I know" he sighed, "I know, and do not think me heartless my dear, I feel deeply for the poor girl, she really is the jewel of this school but I fear there is nothing more we can do for her. We can support her and comfort her, but her strength must come from within. Only then can she truly overcome this tragedy"

"There must be _something_ more we can do for her" Minerva implored as she collapsed tiredly into a chair, "She has so much potential, and…and…_oh_ what a pleasure it was to teach her, such an inquisitive mind" She continued in a reminiscent manner, though the times she spoke of were not that far past.

"Ah indeed, and quite creative too. If not for her, I doubt very much that Harry and Ronald would have accomplished this much or even survived this long. She has proven herself time and again to be a loyal and valuable asset to both the Order and to Harry as a friend" Albus agreed.

"Yes that is true. I still think she needs more support than we are currently providing her. Perhaps she should have gone to the Burrow with Potter and the Weasleys"

"Hmm…perhaps" Albus mused before adding, "She was certainly given the opportunity, though you will remember Minerva, it was Hermione who refused to go even with her friends insisting that she accompany them"

"Of course she did! The poor girl is so conscious of propriety that she didn't want to impose" Minerva said adamantly defending her beloved protégé

"I'm not so sure it was that. I have observed her carefully over the past term. She has definitely distanced herself from those around her, with perhaps the exception of Harry; though even he has been held at arms' length from what I can tell."

"To think all the progress she had made has been utterly destroyed with that damn package. Maybe you ought to take her under your wing Albus. You know I have nothing against Severus and I do love the boy dearly, but even you must admit he is not the most empathetic or gentle wizard. Hermione needs support at a time like this, and I'm sure Severus' severity and harshness must be difficult for her to deal with. The poor child needs care and attention!" She proclaimed emphatically. Her tirade was unfortunately cut short by the harsh knock that reverberated through the room.

"Do come in Severus" Albus called amiably

"Headmaster, Minerva" He 'greeted' bestowing them each with a curt nod. He strode in purposefully and took up a position in front of the desk. "I would like to request permission to allow Draco Malfoy to return to Hogwarts earlier than anticipated, tomorrow to be precise"

"Mr. Malfoy? Whatever for Severus, surely the boy would like to spend time with his father" Albus said mildly, yet fixing Severus with a piercing look.

"Not in the least. The farther Draco is from Lucius the better, especially now after what happened this summer with regards to Miss Granger and Draco's mother"

"I see. Very well if you believe it to be necessary"

Severus inclined his head in thanks and turned to leave when he was stopped by Albus asking after Hermione's progress.

"We were just now discussing the situation with Miss Granger. I wonder Severus, what do you think of her recent withdrawal?"

"I am unsurprised, as should you be" he replied curtly

"You see! This is the kind of attitude that I was talking about, the child needs caring and comfort" Minerva cried, gesturing wildly with her arms.

Severus merely quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask what the woman was raving about.

"Well then Minerva, what would you suggest? Our options are limited" Albus said practically, but her answer was cut off by Severus' scathing remark.

"On the contrary Minerva, precisely what Miss Granger does _not_ need is to be coddled and given the false hope that her life will return the fluffy ball of happiness that it was before"

"Well I dare say a little bit of coddling would do the poor thing some good, definitely more so than the blatant disinterest that you show her" Minerva spat back

"I cannot be what I am not Minerva, and I have not been unkind to her, but I most certainly will not coddle her. Whether you choose to believe it or not, I am not entirely lacking a heart" came his terse reply

Minerva sighed, "I know that dear boy, of course I didn't mean to suggest that you are being explicitly cruel, I just meant that perhaps she could use the support of someone who is not so hard to reach"

"Indeed"

"Well, I must confess for once I am not entirely sure what to make of the situation. I am somewhat at a loss as to how to help the poor girl" Albus said sadly

"She may be withdrawn, and delicate as of now, but I do not believe she is beyond hope. In fact I request your permission to give her duelling lessons" Severus said mildly

"Duelling lessons?" they both asked surprised

"Indeed. She has requested my assistance in furthering her defensive skills. I am inclined to believe it would be both beneficial to her health, mental or otherwise, as well as in the upcoming war. She will be on the front lines and such training is a necessity, this is only an accelerated approach"

"I see" Albus pondered, idly twirling the end of his beard, "and she requested this herself?"

Severus merely inclined his head in affirmation

"What kind of duelling do you plan on training her in?" the headmaster asked

"I will conduct an assessment of her current level of ability, and will decide from there. I believe she could benefit from physical combat training. I am unsure of her skill level, but I suspect I could train her in the traditional methods, those that I particularly excel in"

"You mean the old _traditional_ ways?" he asked pointedly

"Yes, only if she is able however"

"I see indeed. Very well, I trust your judgement Severus. If you believe she could benefit from such tuition, then I grant you full permission to do so"

"Thank you. If there is nothing further…"

"No my boy, run along I'm sure you have things to attend to"

"Very well, good day Headmaster, Minerva"

Severus turned and stalked out, leaving Albus and Minerva to worry some more, knowing that there is very little if anything that they can do.

* * *

_Thanks for Reading!! Leave a review please :D_


	14. Christmas Fears

_Hey all!_

_So this is a brand new chapter. I miscalculated my timeline a bit and realized that I completely skipped over Christmas, oops! hehe yeah, so here's a new little addition, I know it's not very long or anything, but I promise I'll try to have a new chapter up soon. I've mentioned before that I'm revising this entire story, so if you haven't already, I suggest you read chapter 6 (aka chapter 5.5) because it is also completely new!_

_Anyways, thanks for sticking with me! :)_

_DeceptiveFates_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot  
_

* * *

Chapter 14 - Christmas Fears

_December 25__th__ – Hogwarts School_

Hermione awoke with a distinctly nauseous feeling. _Christmas morning._ A lonely one though, unlike the ones of the past. Sighing quietly, she proceeded to go about her morning routine like normal. _It may be Christmas for everyone else, but I'm sure as hell not celebrating anything this year,_ she thought bitterly. Yet she had still sent her father and the boys gifts, deciding that there was no need to completely alienate the only family she had left out for her morning jog, she neatly walked past the pile of presents at the foot of her bed. She would open them later, she promised herself.

The crisp winter air bit into her face, but was not wholly unpleasant. She saturated her feet in charms to keep the snow out of her shoes and keep herself from getting frostbite. Hermione stopped and stood at the top of the steps just outside the oak doors and looked out onto the grounds. Her gaze swept across the pristine white land before her, and she could not help but feel some measure of peace. It was times like this that she remembered that there was still purity and beauty in the world. Early morning with no one in sight, the silence was like a comforting blanket of security for Hermione. The grounds were untouched at this hour, not even animal tracks marred the sweeping beauty of the freshly fallen snow.

Taking a deep breath of the clean air, Hermione hopped down the stairs and set off for her jog. Running in the winter had an odd sense of appeal for Hermione. The steady crunching of the snow beneath her feet matched her soft breathing and the thudding of her heart. It echoed in a strange sort of harmony and Hermione took solace in the sound. The sun had fully risen by the time she finished her run, but she was loath to return to the castle. Taking a detour, Hermione slowed to a walk as she approached the now glassy lake. The water was not frozen solid, rather there were floating sheets of ice that slid about with the gentle lapping of water. The edges of the lake were well frozen, so much so, that Hermione very tentatively stood on the ice near the shore. Blueish-black depths lay beneath her feet like an abyss waiting to claim her. The icy depths called to her, seductive in their allure, but she would not yield. Tempting though it may be, she was not so lost to the world as to fall to that particular path of self-destruction. _At least revenge is useful for something,_ she thought bitterly, before looking up at the lake once more. There was still light though, she was not entirely consumed by the darkness. Sh still saw the grace of the world around her in such moments, moments such as now, as the sun glinted off the clear surfaces of ice, winking back at her. The golden rays also caught the softly falling snowflakes causing them to sparkle and glitter like fallen diamonds.

There was something about winter that eased the sorrow from her soul. Perhaps it was the stark beauty of seeing the world in white, as though all the colour had been stripped from the land, leaving everything in easily distinguishable shades. As though the world was somehow simpler, devoid of the complexity it otherwise held. Whatever the reason, Hermione relished the peace it afforded her.

Standing still for a moment longer, Hermione carefully stepped back onto the safety of the ground. The slight danger of the ice beneath her feet cracking was strangely alluring. Shaking her head slightly she took another two steps back, as if to physically distance herself from the temptation. She smiled slightly as the Giant Squid popped up and flicked a tentacle at her in curiosity. Hermione watched as it ducked back under and pushed the slabs of ice around, playing with the frozen sheets of water. She stood for another ten minutes until she started shivering slightly as the sweat from her recent jog cooled in the cold morning air.

Hermione turned, intent on heading back to the castle when she noticed a stark black figure watching her from by the trunk of a tree. He appeared to have been standing there for some time, casually observing her. She wondered for a moment what he saw when he watched her; could he see the turmoil in her soul? Did he catch a glimpse of that inner peace she had felt earlier? Pondering such questions she stood several feet from him, wondering what he would say, if anything at all.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," He said casually, straightening to his full height.

"Good morning Professor," Hermione mirrored, "Happy Christmas," she added after a moment of silence.

He nodded slightly to acknowledge the greeting before quietly reciprocating. She smiled in acceptance of the returned wish, but was unsure how to proceed. He seemed so different from the foreboding man he was usually seen as in the confines of the castle.

"You should return to the castle, the Headmaster will expect everyone to be present for breakfast."

"Yes, sir," she replied obediently.

Hermione was surprised when he turned slightly indicating that they could walk back together. Oddly, she was not averse to the company, in fact, she rather welcomed his presence. In the last few months they had grown somewhat closer, blurring the lines from teacher-student to something resembling acquaintances. They were by no means friends, but they were not precisely professor-and-pupil anymore either. Together they walked back to the castle in comfortable silence. Upon reaching the entrance hall, Hermione bid him goodbye before returning to her dormitory to change.

It was only upon re-entering her room after showering that she realized that the presents were left unopened. Deciding she had time, she sat on her bed and carefully pulled the first gift towards her. The pile at her feet was somewhat larger than normal. _Pity gifts no doubt,_ her mind mocked bitterly. The first gift was a lovely, eagle-feathered quill from her head of house. She gently caressed the length of the plumage before putting it aside and reaching for the next gift. This one was clearly from her father as it had the school's address on it in addition to her name. Carefully pulling the wrapping off revealed a fluffy white scarf, but what caught her eye was the note and small jewellery box that laid on top of it. Lifting the box, she tentatively opened it, and gasped in recognition. Putting it aside, she reached for the note.

_My dear Hermione,_

_I cannot imagine the pain you have suffered recently and I am so sorry I was not there for you when you needed me. I miss you terribly my darling, now more than ever. The house seems so empty, so lonely, I can hardly stand it. Your letters are the only thing that I look forward to now, you are all I have left in this world my sweet._

_I'm sure you realize that the ring I have sent was your mother's. When I gave her that ring, my love for her was so great I could practically feel it bursting from my heart. That ring was the start of a happy life together. I pass this ring to you, so that the love your mother and I shared can pass to you, so you may let that warm your heart when there is little else to ease the ache. I know she would have wanted you to have it, so wear it with pride. I miss you and I love you Hermione. Merry Christmas my darling daughter!_

_Love, _

_Dad_

Salty tears now blotted the paper that she held before her. It made her heart ache to know how much he was hurting. Hermione suddenly felt a deep sense of guilt mingled with shame bubbling within her. In the past few months, she had been so consumed with her own grief and anguish, she had hardly spared a thought for how her father must be suffering. He too had lost his family; his wife and youngest child. _He must feel like he's lost both of his children_ she thought suddenly, startled by the reality of such a thought. This was indeed a staggering conclusion to be reached. Hermione rapidly reviewed her actions over the last several months, searching desperately for some indication that she had not withdrawn so much as to not notice her father's misery. Unable to recall any compassion on her part, she came to the stark realization that she had pushed away the only member of her family she had left. All this time, she thought her father was suffocating her and when he wasn't, she felt abandoned. It was a startling realization for her to see that it was in fact _she_ who had done the abandoning, not the other way around. _He must think I'm a terrible daughter, he probably thinks that the wrong child died_, she thought desolately, choking on her own tears. _I wouldn't blame him... I wish Leigh had lived instead of me too_. All of a sudden, the sheer loneliness struck her. Here she was on Christmas morning, alone in any empty room, with hardly a friendly face in the entire castle. Christmas was supposed to be a time of love and happiness, time to spend with family, yet she felt none of these grand emotions and she certainly was not with any family. Not that there was much family left for her anyways.

She wiped her tears away once more, and gingerly picked up the small jewellery box. Carefully, almost reverently, Hermione lifted the ring out of the box. She could not stem the tears that fell as she gazed softly at the beautiful and ornate diamond ring. She had seen it grace her mother's finger for so many years; she could remember playing with it as a child whenever she held her mother's hand. The grandeur of it was a distinct sign of her parent's youth. They had just opened their practice together when they got engaged and were quite well off. Their tastes had matured and become considerably more modest after she was born. But that ring was a symbol of their more adventurous and indulgent days. Sniffling softly, Hermione slowly slipped the ring onto her right ring finger. As she tilted her hand, the light glinted off the diamonds, twinkling at her playfully. Hermione wiped her eyes again, before resolutely setting the note and the now empty jewellery box aside and proceeding to open the rest of her gifts.

Ron had gotten her an relatively expensive looking bookmark and a book to go with it. The book of course, was nothing even remotely school related, rather it was "Wizarding Chess for the Strategically Challenged". There was a hastily scribbled note shoved inside the cover, and Hermione could not help but smile at the sight of it.

_Hermione,_

_You can't avoid learning to play chess forever 'Mione, and since ya kinda suck at it (no offence) I figured you could use a nudge in the right direction. Besides how often do I get to help you with anything right? Heh, I even went into a bookshop to get this for you! Haha! Anyways, Happy Christmas, we miss you here at the Burrow,_

_Love,_

_Ron_

Hermione giggled softly. It was true, the boys had been trying to get her to learn how to play Wizard's Chess for years, but she had always had an excuse. The gift was a typical, awkwardly-sweet, Ron-ish sort of thing, and the intention behind it was good-natured and loving. Things had been strained with Ron lately, but it warmed her heart to know that he was mature enough to make the effort to keep things normal.

The next gift was from Ginny. Hermione had never been too close to her before, but years of knowing her family and the last few years of deeper friendship had forged a connection between the two girls. She received a set of four fancy hairpins and a small wooden box in which to keep them. The note explained that they were magical and once fastened would hold even Hermione's wayward curls. The missive continued on to say that since Hermione's two closest friends were boys, and don't know the first thing about girls, it was her duty to make sure that Hermione received a suitably feminine gift. It was a thoughtful gesture, and though Hermione was not the sort of female to "accessorize", she resolved to wear the lovely hairpins on the first day of the next term. It would please the girl to see them worn, and Hermione knew no other way to show her sincere gratitude.

Finally, she came upon Harry's gift. There was a long note attached to the package, but Hermione set it down to read later. Pealing the glossy wrapping away, Hermione was stunned by what she saw. Nestled in a soft cushion, was a beautiful wand-sheath. She picked it up and was immediately aware of just how soft the material was. It was made of finely hand-crafted, black leather, and had a string of tiny runes embossed in gold along the edges. The piece was held together by two elegant, golden, clasps. Hermione slid the sheath onto her left arm and sealed the clasps. As soon as the last clasp was fastened, the sheath shrunk and reformed, moulding to the shape of her arm. It felt light and comfortable, not at all bulky or inconvenient. She could feel the magical essence from all the various charms and spells that were placed on the leather. It felt like a warmth that sank deep down into her very bones. Her wand fit perfectly in the holster and the spell-work kept it from accidentally falling out. Curiosity finally pulled her to next read the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Happy Christmas! I know that after everything that happened to you this year, you probably don't feel much like celebrating. I can't blame you, but I do hope you like your gift. If you haven't opened it yet, do that now before you read the rest of my letter. _

_I figured that this year your gift should be a bit different. As much as I would like to think that this is just another Christmas, like every other one, I know that it is not for you. I also know that you are never going to give up this idea you have about revenge. Since I can't talk you out of it, I might as well make myself useful, right? If you listened to me, then you've already seen that I got you a wand-sheath. It's no ordinary holster though. It's hand-crafted and it's got all kinds of protective wards and spells and charms on it. The runes are to preserve the quality and durability of the sheath. Don't think I'm some genius though 'Mione, I asked Dumbledore if he knew where I could get a good holster and he told me about a specialty shop in Hogsmeade. Anyways, the sheath has a bunch of cool features. It'll resize and form to your arm, it's got charms to keep your wand from falling out, there's a light-weight charm on it so you hardly know it's there, etc. One last thing about the sheath, there's a slit on the top part (opposite the wand holder), and this is a dagger sheath. I know that when the time comes, you're gonna be in the thick of things and right in the middle of any battle. I figured it would be good to have muggle-ish weapon on you, in case you get in a tight spot, so this is one place you can store it. _

_Well, I hope you like your present 'Mione. We all miss you here, it's just not the same without our bushy-haired little bookworm! I hope you aren't feeling too lonely there all by yourself. I miss you!_

_Loads of Love,_

_Harry _

At the mention of a dagger sheath, Hermione noticed the flat, larger slit on the top panel of the sheath. The gift was very thoughtful and seemingly expensive. It was perfect, and Harry had exquisite taste. She was touched by the amount of effort and consideration he had put into her present. She would have to write a long and appreciative letter to him, Ron and Ginny later in the day.

Deciding that the main gifts had been opened, Hermione set off for the Great Hall for breakfast. She could open the remaining presents later. Breakfast went by fairly quickly without any strange occurrences. The children were all quite jovial and giddy, no doubt from the joy of receiving presents. The professors were all in good cheer as well, enjoying seeing the students so happy and relaxed. The only person who seemed unaffected by the Christmas spirit was Severus Snape.

While he was outwardly cold and distant, within the recesses of his mind there was a spark of envy. These children chattered and laughed, blissfully free of any worldly worries. Severus could not remember a time when he was so care-free... even during what should have been an untroubled youth at Hogwarts, there was no peace for him. Christmas had never been a time of celebration for him, only a reminder of how happy other families could be, but never him. Severus was not a man to wallow in self-pity, but these holidays seemed to bring out the worst in him. The only other person in the Hall who seemed to share his melancholic views this year was Miss Granger. Yet even she, who had suffered so greatly, did not seem to be as disheartened as he would have thought. Perhaps she was hiding her sorrow to some extent, yet there was a glimmer of joy in her countenance. Dimmed and muted as it was, but it was still present. Severus found himself oddly curious as to why the girl who could hardly crack a smile on any given day, could be even remotely happy on such a holiday. Tiring of all the Christmas cheer, Severus made a hasty retreat after finishing his breakfast. He stalked down to the dungeons and into his sitting room, shrugging out of his robes before settling dejectedly into his favourite chair. It was before noon and he probably shouldn't be drinking, but he summoned a glass and the bottle of firewhisky anyways, justifying it by thinking _it is Christmas morning after all, no harm in a little indulgence_. There were only a few occasions in which he felt he was justified in such excesses and Christmas was most certainly one of them. It was also one of the few occasions in which he allowed himself to wallow in self-pity, if only for a little while. It seemed like every year he accumulated more things to worry about and this year was no exception.

Lucius was becoming more dangerous by the minute and after the events of last summer Severus was beginning to be truly worried for his young godson. Draco was in essence a good boy, if a little misguided. Though even his grand illusions were promptly shattered after witnessing the brutality his father was capable of. It saddened Severus to know that the boy he loved like a son had been subject to such heartache, yet it eased his mind considerably to know that at least the boy was no longer completely ignorant of the atrocities Lucius was capable of committing. At least one good thing came from Narcissa's senseless and needless death. Despite popular opinion, Narcissa Malfoy had been an incredibly strong minded and intelligent witch. Lucius' great business successes had not been solely of his own making as many assumed, but due to the cunning economic sense possessed by his wife. Of all the people Severus was forced to interact with, she was one of the few he truly cared for, perhaps even loved, in his own way. He owed it to Narcissa to care for her son. It was said son that was his primary concern today.

This Christmas would be difficult for Draco as it would be his first without his mother. Cold and distant though Severus may be, he did feel sorry for the boy. He knew all too well the pain of losing a mother. It would seem that two of his charges would be facing a difficult day, for he was more than conscious of the fact that this would be Hermione Granger's first Christmas without her mother and sister. Severus sighed tiredly. So many youth were suffering when they should be living blissful, pain-free lives. At least his mark had not burned yet.

_Thank Merlin for small mercies_.

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_Thanks for reading, leave a review please!!_


	15. A New Addition

_Hey all! So I'm very much alive and kicking... though I have been MIA for a while. Sorry 'bout that, but school's been kinda crazy. I'm in the end of my 3rd year at University so free time is a luxury I don't often enjoy. Anyways, here's a new chapter, hope you guys like it! _:)

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. _

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Chapter 13 – A New Addition

Draco was elated to know he was leaving the Manor at long last. Granted it had only been about a week, but that was already one week too long for Draco's tastes. Draco stood stoically by his fathers' side attempting to mask his eagerness to leave, as he waited for his godfather to arrive. Soon enough there was a brisk knock, indicating Severus' arrival. Malfoys are never emotional and Lucius couldn't give a damn about his son at any rate, so the 'goodbyes' were swift and formal.

In a matter of moments Draco once again saw the familiar and now pleasing sight of Hogwarts Castle. Gawking at it in relief as though he were an awed first year, Draco shook himself out of his reverie and scrambled to catch up with his godfather's long, steady strides as he was already making his way towards the castle.

"Deposit your things in your dormitory and meet me in my office Draco."

"Yes, godfather." Draco replied dutifully.

Not wanting to keep the dour man waiting, Draco quickly made his way to the Slytherin dormitory. Some ten minutes later he was standing outside the Potions Masters' office waiting to be granted entrance.

"Sit down a moment Draco, I need to finish up this letter." Severus said pleasantly, as he continued to write. After a few moments, Severus finished his letter, folded it neatly and sealed it before sending it off with his owl. He then turned his complete attention to the young blonde man sitting before him.

"This is not entirely a vacation for you Draco, do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. However, I will not require your assistance throughout the day, so you may spend your free time as you wish. The potions I want you to assist me with are dangerous and you must keep a cool head and a steady hand. Mainly I will require you to help me prepare ingredients, nothing too daring I'm afraid."

"Of course godfather, I will not disappoint you" Draco promised softly.

Severus sighed.

"Draco, there is very little you could do to disappoint me. Do not confuse making errors with disappointing someone. To err is human nature, anyone who claims otherwise is living a life of ignorance."

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, go and enjoy you day. Lunch and Dinner are at the usual times in the Great Hall."

"Thank you godfather… for everything," Draco said as he turned to leave.

Severus merely nodded.

*****

Hermione arrived for her next lesson promptly on time. She entered the room expecting to see couches or a table set as per normal, and was therefore surprised to see was appeared to be a large arena with padded floors and walls. In the centre of the room stood Snape, oddly, without his robes or even his trademark coat. She had never seen him in anything other than his teaching robes, and so was shocked to see him looking so casual in only his shirtsleeves. Hermione cautiously stepped into the room, the door closing behind her of its' own accord.

"I have decided to forgo the Occlumency lessons today in favour of beginning those defence lessons you had asked for." He stated calmly.

"I see…." Hermione replied, somewhat unsure of the situation.

"I assumed you still wanted those lessons Ms. Granger, or am I mistaken?" He asked, picking up on her uncertainty.

"No sir. My desires have not changed."

"Good, now take off your robes and leave them over there." He said, pointing to the far corner of the room.

His robes were also there, folded neatly on a chair with his coat slung across the back. Hermione pulled off her robes, revealing her simple attire of jeans and a plain tee. Grabbing her wand, she returned to meet the Potions Master in the centre of the room.

"Very well. I will not patronize you by going over the basic defence spells taught in class, instead we will jump ahead to the more intermediate and advanced levels of offensive spells. We will not be duelling today, but merely practicing until you have mastered these spells."

"All right."

*****

The next four hours were spent simply rehearsing and casting spells under the professor's stern command. The ROR was kind enough to produce dummies to serve as targets, and towards the end of the lesson they had progressed to firing at moving targets. Severus had anticipated her being a fast learner, but even he did not expect the level of raw power emanating from the petite witch. Making a note of this, he was determined to see the Headmaster about the issue. While Hermione had by no means mastered all the spells covered that day, he could safely say she had gotten a good handle on at least half the spells already, which was a good 15 more than he thought she would. It seemed that Hermione Granger was full of many more surprises, and that was saying something considering that Severus Snape is not a man who is easily surprised. The end of the lesson left both teacher and pupil oddly satisfied; Hermione because she could release her frustration and anger, Severus, because of the level of potential he saw in her.

"That will be all for today, go get cleaned up Ms. Granger, you have more than earned your dinner tonight." He said somewhat amiably.

"Thank you sir!" Hermione replied, amazed at his open and unveiled compliment.

She returned to her dormitory remarkably pleased. For the dour Potions Master to freely compliment her, she surely must have exceeded his expectations to a great degree. She showered quickly and dressed for dinner, a small smile of satisfaction gracing her normally emotionless face.

*****

Hermione arrived at dinner in a fairly good mood. Training had gone well and the physical exertion had been refreshing for her. She took her usual seat next to professor Snape, giving him a small smile. Hermione and the other staff members were suitably amazed when he returned her smile with a gracious nod, with not a glare in sight. The other students thankfully did not notice their subtle interaction but Minerva and Albus could not help but exchange 'looks' before reverting back to their nonchalant poses. It had been long enough that the students were not quite so intimidated by their professors and so the sound of chattering students filled the Hall as they waited for the evening meal to be served.

"Hermione dear, how are your lessons coming along?" Minerva asked, hoping to draw a similar response to the one she had seen earlier.

"Fine, professor," came Hermione's curt reply.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Apparently Hermione was not inclined to be more forth-coming. Ever since Hermione's return, the Transfiguration Mistress was at a loss as to how to approach the girl. She could be almost normal one minute, and yet completely withdrawn the next. It was as baffling as it was troubling. Hermione, however, was blissfully oblivious to her professor's inner musings, and was hardly even aware of her odd mood swings.

A few minutes before the designated dinner hour, the doors to the Great Hall swung open, shocking the students into silence. All heads swung to the entrance, Hermione's included, and so everyone was suitably shocked to see a certain fair-haired Slytherin enter the hall. Hermione hid her shock well, yet could not help but stare as Malfoy took the seat on the other side of Professor Snape.

"Got a problem Granger?" Draco asked, giving her a pointed look.

"Not at all Malfoy." She replied with a slight shake of her head.

"Good." He replied curtly. He then promptly turned back to stare mindlessly at his empty plate.

There was a tense silence around the table. The younger students seemed wary of Malfoy, with good reason. Meals hadn't been this tense since the first few days when the students were still adjusting to their close proximity to the professors. The new addition of Draco Malfoy was unsettling to everyone, including Hermione. Most of the students were wondering why Malfoy would leave his precious Manor and the luxuries he likely enjoyed there to come back to school early. Hermione, on the other hand was wondering what kind of catastrophe could draw Malfoy back to the sanctuary of Hogwarts ahead of schedule. She was well aware that the likelihood of Lucius Malfoy allowing his son to 'escape' his presence was small to none, barring some unusual and extreme emergency. Lucius certainly took the term "control freak" to a whole new level; to the point of virtually imprisoning his own child.

The meal progressed quietly. Malfoy was noticeably silent as were those in his immediate vicinity. Much like the first day, the younger students scuttled away as quickly as possible to avoid the normally volatile blonde. Hermione too left early, unwilling to allow anything to ruin her rarely good mood, especially Malfoy. It occurred to Hermione that it had already been an entire week since the holidays began and she had yet to write to the boys. Granted they hadn't written to her yet either, but that was hardly surprising. Sometimes getting a letter from Harry and Ron could be harder than getting a mandrake to stop shrieking. So taking advantage of her raised spirits, Hermione decided to write to the residents of the Burrow.

*****

Draco wandered listlessly through the dungeon corridors. He had never really been in the castle when it was so empty. The dungeons were usually less populated than other areas of the castle, but they had never felt quite so barren before. During the main term the presence of the students was practically tangible even deep in the bowels of the school. But now, the emptiness in the school seemed all encompassing, but for once Draco enjoyed the silence and isolation. He had so much to think about, so much to decide on, that the solitude was refreshing. With every passing day it became clear to Draco that he could not continue to walk along the proverbial line in the sand. He would be forced to choose his path eventually and by the looks of it, sooner rather than later.

His father and more importantly the Dark Lord could not be avoided forever, much to his dismay. His only saving grace was that not even the Dark Lord would risk initiating him whilst still under Dumbledore's nose. This little detail would at least buy him another year or so, but just because he could avoid the official initiation, doesn't mean there wouldn't still be trouble. There was nothing stopping the Dark Lord or even his father from ordering him to do horrendous things, or spy on students. And in his current precarious position, there wasn't even anything he could do to oppose such demands. For the first time in his life, Draco felt utterly and completely alone. Who could he possibly talk to? The only one that had ever truly been on his side next to his mother was his godfather. Yet he too was unwaveringly loyal to the Dark Lord. It baffled him to no end how a man as honourable and respectable as his godfather could stand so resolutely by the maniacal Dark Lord. He knew for a fact that his uncle Severus loved his mother dearly, and so he must have known that her death was no accident. Yet he still bowed to the Dark Lord. Perhaps he blamed Lucius alone, which would account for his continued loyalty. No matter how Draco rationalized it or considered the situation, he could not understand his godfather's position. Draco idolized and practically worshiped his godfather, and yet in this one time of dire need, he could not approach him. The world certainly had a cruel sense of humour.

Draco wandered around a while more before finally giving in and returning to his room. He would solve nothing tonight, and the problems of his life were not likely to escalate in the next 12 hours. With this conclusion, he decided he might as well get some sleep. At least he would be able to rest easy tonight without the incessant worry of his father coming in at some random hour with some equally ludicrous demand.

"Thank Merlin for small mercies" Draco thought bitterly before resolutely turning in for the night.

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_Thanks for reading! Leave a review please!! _


	16. A Matter of Trust

_Hey all!_

_I seem to have beaten my own deadline for once! whoo hoo! Hopefully this means that I can get another chapter out before september. We'll see though. I forewarn you though, final exams are in august for me, and then I'm going to California for a month so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I know it seems a little like nothing's happening, but this story is going to go in cycles where it will move quickly for a while and then slow down for some time... this just happens to be the slow part of the cycle. But I promise all of this slow stuff does have a purpose! Anywho, enjoy!_

PS. HUGE thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! I'm always happy to hear from my readers :)

_DeceptiveFates_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot  
_

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A Matter of Trust

The next morning, Severus Snape woke with a strong sense of relief. It was a comforting thought to know that Draco was safe and sound here in the castle, away from his deranged father. He would have to find a suitable project for the boy, something that would be deemed acceptable by the Dark Lord but not so dangerous or vile as to be a threat to his safety. Perhaps he could simply tutor him and claim that he did not wish to jeopardize any of his important potions or experiments. _Wishful thinking_, his conscience mocked. No, he would need to find something believable to satisfy his Masters, both of them. Deciding he would tackle that problem later, Severus made his way up for breakfast.

Students and professors started trickling in slowly. Miss Granger took her usual seat next to him, but by the time Draco entered the only spot away from the younger children was next to the sixth year Gryffindor. Severus watched with mild amusement as the two students sat stiffly side-by-side. He was surprised, however, when part way through the meal they started a civil conversation even if it was somewhat stilted. He didn't realize that his godson and Miss Granger were on speaking terms, let alone capable of being civil to each other. Even more shocking to him was the nature of their conversation.

"Pass the marmalade please, Granger; how was your Christmas?" Draco asked, throwing in the personal question with his request.

"Not as dismal as I thought it would be actually. Here you are, Malfoy; how was yours?" She replied, calmly handing him the jar of jam.

"I've had better but I suppose that's to be expected, thanks" He answered, indicating his thanks by lifting the jar slightly in her direction.

"Fair enough, I guess. I was surprised to see you here yesterday," she commented before asking him to pass the butter.

"Yeah, I'm not sure how Professor Snape managed that one, but I'm not complaining," he said lightly, as he passed her the butter plate.

Their conversation continued in this vein for some time. They were speaking quietly enough that the people in their general vicinity did not really notice. For all appearances it was simply idle chit-chat, but in light of their rather colourful history it was nothing short of miraculous. There was nothing incredibly personal about their discussion, but it was strange to hear Draco talk so openly about his eagerness to come back to school early.

He would have to talk to the boy about being more careful. If Lucius ever caught wind of his son saying such things there would be hell to pay... literally. Draco's only saving grace is that he's Lucius' only heir. It's probably the reason the boy is still alive rather than in an early grave next to his mother. _Another death I could not prevent_ he thought bitterly. Christmas always seemed to remind him of his greatest failures in life, the lives he could not save and worse, the lives he personally stole in service of the Dark Lord.

*****

Hermione decided it was time to look into the matter of the secret chamber more closely. After her initial search which proved to be fruitless she had temporarily given up on it. Since she had last looked many things had occurred, but now that things were once again settling down she decided it was high time to make a second effort. With that goal in mind, Hermione left the Great Hall in an optimistic frame of mind and set off to the dungeons. She took a different route than normal and wandered down the corridors that appeared to be least used. Upon turning a rather dark corridor, she collided with a solid black wall. Well, it was not a wall per se, but in fact, professor Snape.

"Miss Granger, _why_ are you wandering around in the dungeons?"

"I was bored and wanted to go for a walk," she tried, hoping he would let her get away with such a vague answer.

He gave her a _look_ and slowly raised one eyebrow in a manner that clearly suggested that he didn't even remotely believe her. When she failed to elaborate, he pinned her with a stern glare that implied that she'd better answer unless she wanted to be in detention for the next two months.

Sighing, she gave in. She would probably have to tell someone eventually, it might as well be someone she was getting along with. Perhaps she would even get lucky, he might know of the hallway.

"Very well, I admit, I am searching for something in particular."

"Oh? And what might that be Miss Granger?"

"A specific hallway I found a week or two ago."

"Care to elaborate?" he asked, letting his annoyance show a little from her evasive answers.

"Oh, very well!" she surrendered, rolling her eyes, "That day when you caught me out after curfew, I truly had lost track of time."

"That's what they all say...."

"I know, but something out of the ordinary happened that day. I was wandering around aimlessly, lost in thought when I ended up in a corridor of the dungeons that I had never seen before."

"That's hardly unusual. The hallways frequented by students are not the only ones that exist. The castle is quite large and the maze of corridors, extensive."

"I realize that, sir. However, this was no ordinary hallway. I'm not even sure how to describe it... there was something innately magical about the place."

"Of course there was, everything in this castle is infused with magic. I would have thought you would be intelligent enough to know that," he sneered in a mocking tone.

"Yes, sir, I am aware of that as well," Hermione gritted out in annoyance, "It wasn't just the corridor, I discovered a room. One unlike any I have seen in Hogwarts or anywhere else! There is something _special_ about this hallway and room I found... it's like I can feel it, down to my very core!" she concluded emphatically.

Sighing tiredly, he swiftly turned and began to stalk down the hall. Hermione stood there, confused about what just happened and why he suddenly walked away. Just as she was about to turn away in disappointment, he barked an order for her to follow him. She stared after him for a moment before hurrying to follow. Severus strode quickly through the dungeons with Hermione trailing behind him, stopping only when they reached his office. He ushered her through the door and went through a small connecting hallway that lead to his personal study. Closing the door behind her, Severus crossed the room and opened a large ebony cabinet. Hermione stood waiting awkwardly by the door. She was confused about what was going on and wasn't sure if she should say anything or even move further into the room. She settled for observing the room. It wasn't likely she would ever see the place again, so she decided to satisfy her curiosity in the time she was given. From the depths of the cabinet, Severus pulled out a medium sized pensieve and placed it on the desk.

"Come here, Miss Granger."

Hermione cautiously entered further into the room and came to stand in front of the large ebony desk.

"Since you are unable adequately describe this place you found, you can show me... place your memory of that day into the pensieve."

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied. She was curious to know what it would feel like to have a memory removed and to see one's own memory from a third person standpoint. After receiving strict instructions, Hermione careful pulled the memory of the corridor from her mind and placed it into the pensieve. Oddly, she didn't feel bereft from the loss of the memory. It wasn't duplicated exactly, nor was it completely removed. The essence of the memory seemed to remain in her mind, but the details and the depth of feeling associated with the memory were now missing.

"After you," He said, indicating that she lean forward and enter the memory.

For the first time, Hermione felt that falling sensation that Harry had often described. It was unsettling and yet exhilarating at the same time; much like a large drop on a rollercoaster ride. Severus followed soon after and upon righting himself, turned to view his surroundings. Memory-Hermione turned the corner and saw the mysterious hallway for the first time.

Severus was confused by what he saw. The corridor was unlike any he had ever seen before. He'd spent a majority of his life in Hogwarts and specifically the dungeons, so it was a surprise indeed that he did not recognize the corridor. He trailed after memory-Hermione in a state of curious fascination, amazed by what he was seeing. Almost two hours later, they pulled out of the pensieve. Hermione retrieved her memory as Severus sank thoughtfully into his chair. He knew that he shouldn't be surprised. It was no secret that Hogwarts was sentient, yet for some reason Hermione's discovery startled him. A pensieve memory does not replicate the precise atmosphere, but even he could feel the distinctly magical aura that was infused among the stones, almost as though it were a tangible presence. In short, he had never seen anything like it before. For all that he hated Albus' machinations, he knew he should inform the Headmaster of this discovery. Perhaps he would know more about this mysterious place.

"Um, sir?" Hermione questioned hesitantly.

He snapped out of his musings and turned sharply to look at her. She was still standing awkwardly in front of his desk, unsure of what to do.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Do you know anything about this place, sir?"

He sighed, before replying, "I do not believe I have ever seen such a place before or even heard of its existence."

"I see. I intend to find it again, though I haven't found anything about it in the library," She admitted.

"Yes, I am doubtful there is anything in the library that would describe such a place, though perhaps the restricted section may contain some information. I will see if there is anything relevant there."

"Thank you. Am I to assume you wish to assist me in rediscovering this place?"

He inclined his head before continuing sternly, "I believe it would be advisable to inform the Headmaster of this discovery."

"I would rather not, sir, if you please."

"Oh? And why would you wish to keep this information from him? You live in a magical castle Miss Granger, for all we know, this place may be dangerous."

"I understand the concern professor, but I don't think that's an issue with this place... I don't know how to describe it, but it is _not_ evil. If anything it's almost... purifying."

"Simply because it does not feel dark, it doesn't mean that there isn't dark magic involved. I would think you'd know that by now," he said, mild accusation in his tone.

"Yes, sir, but please, I do not wish to involve the Headmaster in this just yet. If it would ease your conscience, I will inform you if I am able to locate the corridor again."

He sighed, "very well. _Only_ for the time being. If and when you find this place again, you will inform me _immediately_. And _if,_ after inspecting it I find no traces of dark magic, I will _consider_ delaying my report to the Headmaster."

"Thank you, sir. I truly appreciate your discretion in this matter."

"I am trusting you, Miss Granger; do not make me regret it," he warned sternly, pining her with a fierce look.

"Of course, professor," Hermione replied calmly, meeting his eyes without a hint of fear.

"Good," he said shortly, before standing to indicate that she was dismissed.

He escorted her back out of his study and into the corridor. After she assured him that she knew her way back to her dormitory, he returned to his quarters.

Hermione wandered slowly back through the weaving dungeon corridors deep in thought. She had not intended to ever tell anyone of her discovery, not even Harry. Yet less than twenty minutes ago, she had not only told, but _shown_, professor Snape her memory of the place. Of all people, he was the last person she had intended to tell. _Well, maybe not the last,_ she conceded in her mind. Dumbledore on the other hand was rather high on her list of "people I don't want to tell about the mystery room". If Snape decided that he wanted to tell him though, she would have no choice but to confess all the details of her discovery. She just hoped he would keep his word. Luckily, professor Snape was not the sort of man to go back on his promises.

_Thank Merlin for small mercies_, she thought ruefully.

Turning the corner, Hermione nearly walked into yet another Slytherin. She stopped short and tensed a little as Draco skidded to a stop in front of her. They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, each unsure of what to say. They were not friends, but they did not despise each other anymore either. This left them in a strange and often uncomfortable place.

"What're you doing down in the dungeons, Granger?"

"None of your business, Malfoy."

"Easy, I was just asking...."

"And I was just answering," she replied in a deceptively mild tone.

"Right... well I have to meet professor Snape soon, so I guess I'll see you later," Draco said, edging around her.

"Yeah, later, Malfoy,"

Draco continued on his way, not really considering his encounter with the Gryffindor further than necessary. She seemed slightly on edge, but she always seemed to be like that now-a-days. Dismissing thoughts of the Gryffindor, he straightened his clothes out before knocking briskly on the door to Severus' office. When there was no reply he shifted uncomfortably for a moment before hesitantly knocking again. It was unlike his godfather to forget a meeting. _Perhaps something came up,_ he thought, trying to come up with a logical explanation. His musings were interrupted when the door to the office suddenly swung open. Severus loomed menacingly in the doorway until he realized who stood before him.

"Draco, come in," Severus said, hiding his surprise at seeing the boy at his door. Stepping back, he allowed his godson to enter the office.

"Thank you, godfather," Draco said politely, Malfoy manners strictly in place. He sat in the chair before the desk and struggled to hide his nervousness.

"How are you enjoying your stay so far Draco?"

"Well, thank you."

"Good. Come, I'll show you around my lab," Severus nodded, before he stood and moved towards a hidden door.

Severus' personal laboratory was considerably more elaborate than the potion's classroom. There were three rows of benches each separated into thirds by a magical barrier that shimmered slightly. Each of the three sections on the benches had a different set of instruments. The furthest bench had the more delicate potions, the middle bench housed the intermediate potions and the bench closest to the entrance held the simple medicinal potions. The walls were lined with glass covered shelves of ingredients and various utensils. The place was immaculate. A large cabinet held rows upon rows of journals, papers and even a few books. The room was brightly lit with a row of lights above each of the benches. The lights could be dimmed or completely shut off with a flick of his wand. Since each station was isolated by a magical barrier, the experiments and simmering potions were maintained in a sterile environment.

Draco gazed around the room in awe. Severus went about checking the potions that were simmering, swiftly moving between the various cauldrons, stirring occasionally while simultaneously casting charms wandlessly. Draco always knew Severus was a great potions master, but it still amazed him to physically _see_ the man effortlessly manage half a dozen experiments. Draco carefully walked the perimeter of the room, observing the potions and his godfather carefully. He had always had an interest in potions. He was curious to know how a potions master operated in a real lab without having to worry about the safety of children.

"I suggest you become accustomed to this room Draco, you will be spending quite a bit of your time here," Severus said as he finished his final checks on his potions.

"Yes, sir,"

"Sit," Severus said as he led Draco to a small writing table situated in the corner. "Before we can do anything, there are some basic rules and procedures we need to be clear on."

"Yes, sir,"

"First of all, you are _never_ to go near the third bench. Those contain my most dangerous and expensive experiments. Furthermore, the protective charms will not allow you to pass near the bench, so do not even attempt to get a closer look,"

"Yes, sir. I understand completely, the third bench is off limits."

"Good. Secondly, you will not even enter this laboratory unless I am with you. There may be times I leave you alone in this room, or even give you permission to come alone... understand, I am trusting you Draco," Severus said softly, piercing him with a forbidding look.

"Thank you, godfather," Draco replied softly, gazing up at him sincerely, "though I am not sure I deserve your trust, sir."

"I do not trust idly, Draco. Do you doubt my judgement?"

"Of course not, sir,"

Severus nodded curtly before continuing, "the third rule of this laboratory is that the only shelf of ingredients you are to have access to is the second one on the left. All others are off limits unless you receive my explicit permission. The fourth rule is that you are not allowed any food or drink into this room with the exception of water."

"Yes, sir,"

"Now, I will clear one of the stations on the first bench for you to use. I will require your assistance in brewing some of the simple medicinal potions for the hospital wing in addition to the other duties you will be assigned." Severus said, indicating the potions lining the first bench in the lab. "However, aside from that, I will mainly be coaching you and allowing you to assist me in some of the research I am currently conducting."

"What kind of research, Uncle Severus?"

"The kind which you will not speak of to anyone, not even the Headmaster... do I make myself clear Draco?" Severus stressed harshly.

"Perfectly, sir,"

"Good. The research I am conducting is for the Dark Lord. I expect to have your _full_ concentration and undivided attention while you are assisting me."

"Of course, Uncle. I wouldn't provide any less for you; not after everything you have done for me," Draco said earnestly.

Severus sighed sadly, "I have not done enough for you Draco, that much is apparent from the events of the summer. However, I _will_ do all I can for you from this day forward."

"You couldn't have prevented what happened to mother and you have already done so much for me, I could hardly ask anymore of you, Uncle."

"You needn't have to ask, Draco. It is my duty to protect you, even to provide for you when your parents are unable."

"Then I am grateful beyond measure, godfather," Draco said, inclining his head in deference.

"Very well, I believe that will be all for today. Why don't you go and enjoy the rest of the day, perhaps even take some time to sketch a little. It would hardly do to have that skill go to waste after all the effort Narcissa went to in order to teach you."

"Yes, I don't have the opportunity to sketch much at home... sometimes it feels like it's the only thing I have left of her," Draco said quietly, his throat constricting at the thought of his beloved mother.

"I know," Severus agreed gently, "but you carry much of her with you, Draco. Do not forget that. You have her strength and kindness. As long as you honour her memory and live as she would have wanted you to, you will always carry a piece of your mother with you."

"I suppose you are right. It's just so _hard_ sometimes. It's been months but I still miss her so much!"

"As you should. I believe it will be some time before you are able to think of her without pain,"

"I wish it would happen sooner rather than later, godfather."

"Think of it this way, Draco. The fact that you miss her so very much proves how much you loved her. Do you really wish that you loved her less?"

Draco was quiet for a while, "no, I don't suppose I would wish that...."

"Good. Now, I suggest you enjoy your free time; you won't have much of it once we start our work here in the lab," Severus said as he stood.

"Yes, of course, godfather. Thank you again... for everything," Draco said meaningfully.

Severus merely inclined his head before ushering the boy out the door. Shutting the door, Severus went into his study, collapsing tiredly into his chair. He'd had an interesting, if baffling day. Deciding he could look into Granger's mystery later, he retired for the night.

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	17. Only the Tormented Understand

_Hey all!_

_So here's another chapter, hope you all like it! I forewarn you, it is not very happy. Anyways, good or bad let me know what you think! _

_THANK YOU to all my wonderful reviewers, I love hearing what you think about this story and I appreciate you all taking the time to send your thoughts._

_**warning - this chapter is more gruesome than the others, so if you don't like blood and gore then i suggest you only skim this chapter. **_

_also, this is the first time I'm writing something so, well, bloody, so let me know if you think I did well, or if I still need much improvement! ENJOY!  
_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

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Only the Tormented Understand

_The stench of death was palpable; pools of blood lay stagnant, slowly soaking and drying into the cold stone floor. The two dead bodies lay strewn at odd angles while she huddled herself away in a corner, staring blankly at the smears of red that covered much of the ground. Her body trembled with shivers, from both the cold and the horrors of what _they_ had done. She turned her face into the wall, trying desperately to block out the bleak reality of her existence. The stone was rough against her cheek, but she was already so covered in blood she hardly noticed. The metallic clanking of chains and bolts being undone made her cringe further into the corner. The heavy door at the other end of the room creaked open and four men strolled in. With a sense of morbid curiosity, her gaze was unwillingly drawn to the men. Nott leered openly at her, while Avery smirked at seeing her huddled in the corner. Rodolphus Lestrange made a great display of walking near the prone figure of her dead sister. His heavy boot came down hard, crushing the little girl's fingers as he made no effort to avoid her hand. Hermione clenched her eyes, but was unable to block out the crunching sound of Leigh's delicate hand being crushed beneath the unyielding weight of the man's foot. _

"_Oh, blast," Lestrange muttered, as he saw the blood that smeared his boot. He cast a quick cleansing charm to rectify the problem. "Can't have disgusting Muggle blood on my expensive boots, now can I?" he said to Hermione, in a gratingly pleasant tone._

_Lucius chuckled appreciatively. Lazily, he flicked his wand in Hermione's direction, tossing her carelessly across the room. She lay in a crumpled heap, noting absently the shooting pain of yet another broken rib and the crack of her collarbone being fractured._

"_You Muggles really are curious creatures," Lucius drawled in a conversational tone as he nudged her with his gleaming black boot. "You cower like animals, you are weak and frail like the elderly, and you are absolutely _filthy!_"He paused between each insult, allowing a few moments for his companions to share in the amusement._

"_I bore of this taunting, Lucius, shall we not proceed to more interesting amusements?" Nott suggested, twirling his wand in a bored fashion._

"_Hmm... yes, I suppose we could," Lucius agreed. "Avery, you had those Muggle contraptions you wanted to experiment with, didn't you?"_

"_Yes, and I brought enough for all of us,"_

"_I think I'll observe; I'd rather not get blood all over these robes this time, not to mention my boots."_

"_Very well, we'll try to keep it interesting," Avery replied, grinning grotesquely._

_Distracted by their conversation, Hermione was taken by surprise when she heard a loud bang followed by searing pain in her upper arm. Before she had a chance to adjust to the pain, a series of bangs echoed through the dungeon. Pain consumed her as she noticed several staples blasted into her body; arms, legs, stomach, all lined with the thin silver pieces._

"_Oh, look! This one's got nails!" Lestrange exclaimed happily, before he experimentally held it against her shoulder. "It shoots out nails!"_

_This exclamation was somewhat drowned out by the shriek emitted by Hermione as the nail plunged through her tender flesh, nicking her already fractured collarbone. Blood oozed freely from this new wound, joining the rivulets of crimson already flowing from the various punctures that littered her body._

"_Oh, blast, the stupid wench's blood is getting everywhere," Nott complained._

_They 'experimented' for over an hour before they were finally reined in by the blonde aristocrat._

"_We should wrap up soon, Bella's going to expect us for dinner shortly," Lucius announced. "And you should probably remove those metal things before we leave, it wouldn't do for the Mudblood to die from infection."_

"_Hmm, yes, I suppose you're right Lucius," Lestrange agreed._

_Breathing heavily, Hermione tried to calm herself. Numbing herself to the pain was the only way she could even hope to survive. Closing her eyes she pictured her home, schooling herself so as to keep breathing. She was jerked out of her haven as one by one every staple was ripped from her body. Unable to hold it in, she screamed. Her eyes opened in horror and pain as she saw all four men wielding their wands and summoning the staples from her body. _

_The metal shards tore through her skin with such force that her body twitched with every summon. Wishing desperately for the bliss of unconsciousness, Hermione tried unsuccessfully to will herself into a faint. Her throat was so raw by this point that no sound escaped her. Her mouth remained agape in a soundless scream and her eyes were flared open, glazed with agony as she watched piece after piece of ruby-coated metal zoom across the room_

_Finally, the summoning stopped. She held a glimmer of hope that the torture was over, yet that desperate wish was dashed, as she was unceremoniously flipped over. She convulsed, mewling as the fresh wounds made contact with the rough stone beneath her. She could sense the presence of one of the men as they stood over her. Quietly, one last summoning charm was uttered._

Screaming blindly, Hermione woke with a start. The memory of that final nail being ripped through her shoulder was horrifying. She could still feel the sticky wetness of the blood. Her throat felt raw from screaming herself hoarse. She fumbled for her wand, only noticing the sticky wetness coating her hands as she struggled to get a hold on the wooden instrument. Muttering a hasty Lumos, she was sickened by the sight of her crimson blood staining the otherwise pristine white sheets of her bed. The metallic stench of blood was nauseating. She cast around helplessly, her mind still reeling from the vivid nightmare and her body aching from the recently reopened wounds. Hermione sat unmoving for a while, her gaze transfixed on the trail of blood that was still streaming from her body. The dark rivulets were mesmerizing and she watched with detached interest as the various streams pooled together and soaked into her bed sheets.

After some time she gathered her scattered wits and rose from the bed. Standing alone in the room she glanced down at her body. The once blue tank top had a large red smear across the middle and her flannel pants were not much better. Trails of blood flowed from her left shoulder down her front now that she was standing. Hermione supposed there was a matching trail down her back, since the nail had been removed from that side. She cast a quick charm to remove the blood from her clothes and skin. Hermione knew from experience that attempting to heal the wounds with magic would only make them bleed more and so she left the wounds themselves alone. It was still fairly early, so grabbing her robes she quickly exited her dormitory. The trip to the hospital wing took longer than normal. She had lost a lot of blood and by the time she approached the doors she was feeling quite light-headed. Hermione thrust the doors open, not caring how much noise she made.

*****

Severus had been delivering potions to Madame Pomfrey and they both turned abruptly at the sound of the door banging open. A stern and vicious comment was on the tip of his tongue when he noticed the red smears of blood on the tiles and the bloody handprint left on the door. Hermione stumbled further into the room, her form swaying slightly as she struggled to remain upright. Severus was by her side in an instant, placing a steadying arm around her as Poppy cleared one of the beds.

"Merlin above, Granger, what happened?" He asked roughly.

"Nightmare," she replied faintly, "too vivid... wounds reopened."

"Dear Gaia_,_" he muttered, strengthening his hold around the frail girl.

Upon reaching the bed, he removed her outer robe, peeling the now soaked material from her bloodied skin. Madame Pomfrey nearly dropped the potions she was carrying as she saw Hermione's figure. Snape too was shocked; it seemed as though blood was oozing from her very pores, steadily trickling from her entire body.

"Oh, dear... you poor child," Poppy sighed quietly.

"A _nightmare_ did all this?" Severus asked, unable to process the sight before his eyes. He had seen her shortly after the rescue and she had spent nearly half her summer in his manor, yet even then he did not see the extent of her injuries.

"Magical injuries can be reopened as a result of vivid memories, but only if the injuries are recent," Poppy explained.

"How recent?" Severus asked.

"It varies; depending on the person, the severity of the injuries, and how vivid the dream is,"

"It's not the first time this has happened, Professor," Hermione said quietly from the bed.

"This did not occur during your stay with me during the summer, Miss Granger, and I would have thought that would be when your nightmares were most vivid."

"True, but this _has_ happened a few times since the beginning of term. Though, I think this is the worst it has been," she said, almost as an afterthought

"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to fix up those holes in you, my dear. Blood replenishing potion won't do any good if you keep bleeding like that."

"Needles and thread again, Madame Pomfrey?" She asked, already dreading the answer.

"I'm afraid so, Hermione. I wish I could give you something to numb the pain, but it won't do any good. I'll give you some pain-relief potion afterwards."

"Can I render any assistance, Poppy?" Severus asked, unwilling to standby useless.

"If Hermione can manage the pain, then yes," receiving a nod from said patient, she continued, "you can start sewing up her wounds; begin on the right side of her body, please."

"Sewing?" he asked sceptically, eyeing the needle and thread uncertainly.

"Yes, it's the only way, unfortunately." Poppy said shortly, "lay back and try not to tense too much, dear."

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione replied obediently. She tried to relax, but knowing that the numerous holes in her body were about to be sewed up by hand was hardly a relaxing thought.

The mediwitch started on the left side, tackling her mangled shoulder first. The pain of the needle was excruciating as it doubled the already present sting of open wounds. Turning her head away, Hermione watched as Professor Snape hesitantly began sewing the torn strips of flesh on her arm back together. He winced slightly as blood bubbled up from the gashes, gleaming like rubies as he steadily pulled the needle back and forth through her arm. A look of great pain was etched across her face, but she did not utter a sound as they worked to stitch her back together.

"Professor Snape, I finished the batch...." Draco announced, trailing off as he entered further into the infirmary. He stumbled to a stop several feet from her bed, gaze fixed on the scene in front of him. His eyes were wide with horror as both his godfather and the mediwitch continued to sew the seams of Hermione's skin together.

"Oh gods, Granger!" Draco exclaimed. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Fetch me that bottle of alcohol, Draco," Severus commanded, hardly looking up to give the order.

Shaking himself, Draco hurried to the cabinet. Silently, he gave the bottle to his godfather, watching in horror as the alcohol was used to clean her wounds. Hermione mewled in pain, the burning sensation of alcohol coating her entire right arm. The pain was matched soon as Madame Pomfrey dabbed the clear liquid over her left shoulder. She jerked violently, twisting her head in a useless effort to lessen the pain. They ceased their sewing, allowing her to adjust to the burning sensation. Still not even half done, they resumed their hideous task. By this point, Hermione was lingering on the edge of consciousness, though never succumbing to the abyss.

"Mister Malfoy, if you intend to stay then at least make yourself useful!" Madame Pomfrey ordered. "Wash the stitched parts of Miss Granger with a cloth and warm water."

"Yes, Ma'am,"

Very carefully, Draco started to wash her right arm as Professor Snape moved on to her torso. She was clad in a tank top and shorts, the latter, had clearly been hastily transfigured. He could feel her whole body trembling slightly as he gently drew the warm cloth over her freshly sewn flesh.

*****

The lumped skin held together by thread looked grotesque, even to Severus, on an otherwise attractive young woman. He had no problem admitting that the girl was strangely beautiful, if in an unconventional way. There was nothing lecherous about appreciating the physical beauty or attractiveness of another. He was not leering at her or thinking of anything inappropriate, but it pained him to see what should have been the flawless skin of a young woman contorted with such vicious scars. _Both mental and physical,_ he reminded himself.

After nearly an hour of tedious and careful work, all of Hermione's wounds were once again sealed. Tired from the strain of managing the pain and the lingering stinging from the alcohol, Hermione fell into a light sleep. Draco was dismissed and the rest of her body was gently cleaned with a warm cloth. The sheets of the bed and her clothes were cleaned with a quick spell, as was her wand. Nearly half the wing had to be sterilized since Hermione had trailed blood everywhere. The house-elves would have already taken care of the blood left behind on her journey down, which left one less thing for the exhausted mediwitch to worry about. Poppy bustled away clearing the bandages and empty bottles.

Severus conjured a chair and sat watch over Hermione. He felt strangely protective of the girl, though he could not seem to understand why. He could feel a change within himself. He was starting to care for the girl's well being. It bothered him, angered him, to see her hurt and in pain. When had he begun to care for her? _Why _for that matter? Nevertheless, he could not bear to leave her lying alone in a hospital bed, so he sat watching over her.

_Like a grim angel of death_, he thought humourlessly. _It is men like me who brought such pain upon her, my fellow Death Eaters. Such depravity, _he thought, disgusted as he thought of the countless hours he had shared with such men, the men he used to think of as comrades, as friends in the years past. _I was a misguided and foolish boy then. I deserve to see the pain I have wrought. _This _is my doing; indirectly, perhaps, but still a result of my choices. Is _this_ the glory I longed for in my youth? Is _this_ the satisfaction of revenge I yearned for so dearly? How could I have been so misguided... she was so pure, so innocent... _

He was jerked out of his inner recriminations violently as Hermione convulsed, spasms twisting her already tormented body. Her eyes widened, pain and fear clearly evident in her coffee-coloured eyes. Severus snapped out of his seat, bending over her carefully, trying to calm her, keep her from reopening her newly stitched wounds.

"Miss Granger, be calm, you are _safe_," he commanded

She gasped, gulping air like a parched man does water.

"If you do not control yourself, you will only cause further harm to your person. Miss Granger, be still!"

Slowly her spasms slowed, leaving her only trembling slightly. Severus continued to speak to her, repeating again and again that she was safe, that she must be calm. Her eyes flitted around the room anxiously, never lingering on anything for long. Severus carefully stepped away from her, easing himself back into his chair. She continued to look about frantically. _Gods, she looks like a bloody caged animal,_ he thought sadly, for once at a loss for what to do.

*****

Hermione felt her body go completely rigid, accentuating the uncontrollable tremors that ran through her. Her eyes felt glazed, like she was looking, but not truly seeing. Her gaze swept the room in waves, never faltering, always watching. Her senses were on hyper-drive, she was sure she could feel every thread that pierced her body, her ears picking up even the slightest tinkle of sound.

He sat beside her, watching her, judging her. She could feel his black gaze. Her eyes finally stopped shifting and settled on his face; locked and riveted like a homing device that found its target. Hermione let her eyes bore into his face, his eyes staring back with the same intensity. She stared at him, letting his searing black eyes connect with her own brown ones. Those liquid depths that so often showed contempt suddenly flickered with emotion.

Her eyes snapped away, staring blankly at the wall ahead, "I do not need your pity, sir, nor do I want it," she rasped quietly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Her tone and bland words surprised him as much as her sudden motion. He tilted his head slightly, a jerky motion indicating his confusion. After a moment of silence he responded quietly, "I do not pity you, Miss Granger."

"I am partly responsible for this. You never should have been subjected to such horrors," he continued quietly, gently. "It is always the innocent who lose the most," he muttered, mostly to himself.

"I'm hardly innocent any longer," Hermione said harshly, her face twisting into a gruesome sneer.

"Perhaps not," he replied noncommittally. Internally, he was rather disturbed by her response. "But you are not tainted either," he said giving her a pointed look.

She gave him an incredulous look, "how can you say that, sir? Look at me!" she cried, gesturing to her crudely patched up body.

"I helped stitch you back up, Miss Granger, I am aware of the state of your body," he said dryly.

"Then how can you suppose me to be untainted?" she asked desperately.

"Very easily," he responded calmly. "Your _soul_ is still pure as a unicorn, Miss Granger."

This shocked her into silence. She contemplated his words carefully. He was not the sort of man to dole out compliments on a whim, in fact, he went out of his way to insult people, not be kind to them. So then where was this uncharacteristic kindness stemming from? He had already told her he did not pity her. And she believed him. He had never lied to her, never coddled her, he treated her just the same as he always had; a refreshing change from the hypersensitivity that everyone else displayed around her.

At last, she nodded slowly, accepting his statement. "Thank you, sir."

He merely inclined his head before settling back more comfortably in his chair. After a moment she too relaxed, allowing the tension to flow out of her muscles. Twenty minutes passed in silence, when suddenly the quiet was broken by her gentle voice.

"I was never very beautiful," she said quietly. "I have always known that, but now... now, I am hideous. No amount of glamour charms can hide these scars."

Unsure if she was talking to herself or him, Severus sat silently, unable to utter a word as gentle tears leaked slowly from her tormented eyes. How could he respond to such a statement? _So much pain,_ he thought grimly, furious at those who caused her such pain and suffering.

"You must think I am terribly vain," she said in a self-loathing manner.

"Not at all, Miss Granger; I think that you mourn the loss of your... womanly traits, such as unmarred skin," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "It is only natural for you to mourn that loss," he added.

"I should be thankful that I lived though, not crying over something so silly!"

"It's hardly silly. And, unless I am much mistaken, you _are_ appropriately grateful for your survival."

"I wish I hadn't sometimes, you know," she whispered, turning her head slightly to look at him. "I can't count the times I wished I had died there in that horrid cell. At least then I wouldn't have to live like this...."

"I think – I think that would have been a great loss," he replied, choosing his words carefully. "There are many who rely on you, Miss Granger; Mister Potter for one, the Weasleys, and countless others. Would you really liked to have left this world without saying goodbye to your loved ones?"

"No... no, I don't suppose I would have," she said slowly. "I know it seems selfish, but sometimes... some days, I think it would have been easier."

"Easy, has never been an option for you, Miss Granger. But I wouldn't say it's a selfish thought, just a thought borne of desperation."

"I suppose I wish I could be stronger," Hermione confessed pathetically. Why she was saying all this to the dour potions master, was beyond her, but for some reason he was listening. His unexpected kindness was refreshing, and his neutral responses were a relief.

"I don't think it is possible for you be handling this better, Miss Granger. You have taken charge of your life, there can be no more strength than that."

"What do you mean by that, sir?" she asked curiously.

"You have made good progress with the Occlumency lessons and you are also doing physical training now. Both are good starts to taking control of your life."

"Oh... I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Indeed. Now, I suggest you rest, preferably without anymore nightmares that will rip open your flesh again."

"Yes, sir... Thank you... for listening, for being so understanding. I- I appreciate your kindness."

He gave her a jerky nod, acknowledging and accepting her gratitude. "Pain understands pain, Miss Granger," he said softly, before turning swiftly and stalking out, leaving her to ponder his strange parting words.

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	18. Awkward Explanations

_Hey all!_

_Sorry for the long delay, I've been working on this chapter for a while but couldn't for the life of me finish it. Hopefully the next one will be up sooner, but I make no promises... what can I say, school tends to take over my life. Anyway, sorry if the plot seems a bit all over the place or dull, the next chapter should move the plot forward more. **HUGE** thanks to all those wonderful reviewers out there, I am always grateful to hear your views of the story. _

_Well, enjoy!_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Chapter 18 - Awkward Explanations

The way back down to the dungeons seemed extra cold to Draco as he returned shakily to his dormitory. His once-enemy though she may been, even he could not feel anything other than shock and terror at what he had seen. The sight of her body lumpy with stitches would forever be engraved in his mind. Ghastly, was the only term fitting for such injuries. _Gods, was this my father's doing?_ he asked himself, dreading the answer he knew his conscience would provide. It was only when he collapsed into a chair in the common room that he noticed he was shaking, no, _trembling_. He looked down at his hands, still sporting some traces of blood, _her_ blood. Suddenly, he lurched forward, rushing to the restroom, heaving and vomiting, though there wasn't much to purge since he had skipped breakfast that morning. He sank down to the cold tiles and closed his eyes, but immediately snapped them open again as he saw her mangled body before his mind's eye. _Great, as if I don't have enough nightmares as it is,_ he thought bitterly. _Ah well, one more to add to the list is all._

*****

Elsewhere in the Dungeons a certain professor was having some very similar thoughts. Severus had seen many gruesome things in his life, but the sight of his student's body had made him want to shudder. _So young,_ his mind lamented over and over again. He was as surprised at himself as he was at her for opening up like that earlier in the infirmary. She had been so carefully guarded so as not to show any weakness, yet she had so freely disclosed to him some of her deepest insecurities. It baffled him that she trusted him so. And yet, it was understandable. His brief and accidental foray into her mind those weeks ago seemed to have affected their interaction despite the lack of acknowledgment. The incident was never spoken of or even alluded to and yet because of it some measure of trust was forged between them. Even still, though, why him? He could understand her not speaking to the Weasley boy about such matters, the boy was obviously an emotional wasteland, incapable of any sort of depth of empathetic feeling, but surely the Potter brat could provide some support. He had always had the impression that she was closer emotionally to him anyway. The boy may be insolent and a carbon copy of his worthless father, but he did seem to be at least a little sensitive to the girl and her emotions. He had seen them walking by the lake on a few occasions, she had seemed somewhat relaxed during those times, a glimmer of her old self. So why would she choose to confide in him rather than her closest of friends? Perhaps he would never know. What he did know, however, was that he needed to get his mind off of this, off _her_. It would surely drive him to insanity if he didn't. One problem he _could_ tackle was the mystery of the hidden corridor. In all the horror of the morning, he had completely forgotten about the dungeon mystery. Revealing a hidden alcove in his study, he scanned the rows of old books that lined the wooden shelves. The texts in this section were highly expensive and, for the most part, dangerous, lingering on the side of the Dark Arts. The entire bookshelf housed rare and in some cases, illicit books, but it was a collection he greatly valued and had built over many years. Scanning the shelf carefully, he selected three tomes that looked promising: _Hidden in the Stones_, _Celtic Arches, _and _Rare Runes for the Trained Eye. _Settling back at his desk he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and prepared to take notes.

******

Hermione wanted the ground to swallow her whole, better yet, she wished she could just hex herself and save herself the misery of embarrassment. What was she _thinking_? Whining to professor Snape of all people about her stupid insecurities! He probably thought she was the most shallow and vain creature alive. Most people would be grovelling to whatever deities that reigned for granting them life, but no, not she, she complained about the blemishes to her physical appearance. After the brutality of her sister's and mother's murder, it seemed selfish beyond reason to worry over something so insignificant. Intellectually she knew this, but it did nothing to help her irrational distress. Sighing tiredly, she tried to fall asleep hoping to banish her thoughts if only for a few hours. After a few hours of trying to will herself to sleep she reluctantly gave up. The state of her arms and body in general, were such that she couldn't even read to occupy her overactive mind. _I don't think I've ever wished for a tv so badly in my life,_ she thought to herself in exasperation. The Wizarding world had many wonderful things, but the one great luxury they were lacking was the bliss of staring vacantly at a screen. Shifting slightly, Hermione tried to get into a more comfortable position. The movement only served to cause her more problems though, as she became aware of the horrible itching sensation spread throughout her body.

"Great," she muttered sarcastically as she wiggled about trying to relieve the unpleasant sensation. Her wiggling abruptly ceased as she saw Malfoy cautiously poke his head around the curtain shielding her bed from the rest of the hospital wing.

"Umm, hey, Granger,"

"Malfoy," she acknowledged cautiously. "Are you looking for Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, I uh figured I would come see how you were doing," he said awkwardly, flicking his hair back with his hand.

"I see."

"Right, so, uh, how're you feeling?"

"Well... the pain is no longer excruciating, so I'd say fairly well all things considered."

"Ahh... good... I guess,"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of them were sure how to proceed. This was new and foreign ground for both of them. Chatting on the grounds or over a meal was somewhat casual, but this sickbed chit chat was daunting to both of them. Unable to take the awkwardness any longer, Hermione offered him a seat in the chair by the bed.

"Thanks," Draco mumbled as he sank gratefully into the seat. "So, Granger, can I ask why you were flopping around on the bed like a Grindylow out of water?"

"No you may not," Hermione said haughtily, glaring at the blonde in the chair.

"Oh, come on, Granger, you were practically twitching!"

"If I could move, I would hex you, Malfoy," Hermione grumbled. Draco merely raised an eyebrow, looking startling like Professor Snape. Sighing in defeat, she muttered, "I was itchy,"

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that, Granger, speak up."

"I _said_, I was itchy, all right?"

"You know there's a charm to fix that right?"

"_Yes,_ Malfoy, I am aware of that, but my wand is over _there_," she ground out, jerking her head in the direction of the table. "I, on the other hand am _here_ and unless I suddenly develop wandless magic, I will have to deal with itchiness in the Muggle fashion... wiggling."

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Draco brandished his wand. Unfortunately he had exceedingly poor timing, and no sooner did he point his wand, he was thrown backwards by a well-cast _Expellimiarus._ Both students followed the path of his wand as it soared through the air and landed firmly in Severus Snape's hand. His fingers closed around the length of wood with an almost audible snap. Wide-eyed, the students watched apprehensively as he stalked menacingly towards the boy sprawled in the chair.

"What precisely do you think you are doing, Mr. Malfoy?" He snarled. His voice had dropped nearly to a whisper which was far more terrifying than any amount of shouting.

"P-Professor Snape, nothing, sir, I swear!" Draco defended, scrambling out of the chair he had been thrown into when hit with the spell.

"Really," he drawled sarcastically. "Then why, pray tell, was your wand pointed at Miss Granger?"

"I was just trying to help her…." Draco started, but was quickly cut off by Snape as he mockingly asked, "by cursing her into unconsciousness?"

"No!" came the emphatic reply from both Hermione and Draco. Severus slowly turned his menacing glare towards the bed where a still mangled Hermione, lay. His gaze lost its harshness upon seeing the girl looking so distraught.

"I _suggest_ you tell me what exactly happened Miss Granger," he said in a measured tone.

Her eyes flicked from Malfoy to Snape apprehensively. "The stitches make me itchy, Malfoy was just going to cast a spell to relieve the unpleasant sensation."

Snape's brow curved upwards sceptically but he turned his gaze to his godson to gauge his reaction to the girl's words.

"It's true, Professor, I swear, I meant no harm," Draco insisted quietly.

After another moment's hesitation Severus gave a curt nod indicating he accepted the explanation.

"Your wand, Mister Malfoy," he said, proffering said object.

"Thank you, sir."

Turning back to the injured girl, Severus flicked his wrist, casting the spell that he had interrupted earlier. She relaxed visibly in relief as the charm washed over her. Severus turned and gave Draco a pointed look until the boy took the hint and said his goodbyes.

"You are certain Mister Malfoy did not threaten you in any way?" he asked again.

"Yes, sir, I'm sure." Hermione assured. "We have a mutual – if unspoken – agreement of sorts."

"Is that so? And what kind of an agreement might that be?"

"Nothing specific, really... we've both been subjected to things that people our age should never have to deal with, I suppose we have reached an understanding of sorts," she said in a light tone, then in a more serious manner she continued. "The real world doesn't have room for petty rivalries and issues of house loyalty... I think with everything both Draco and I have been through over the last six months, we've realized that."

"I see," he said slowly, impressed that both she and his godson were being so mature about the situation. Admittedly, he was more impressed with Draco than with Granger, he had come to expect this kind of maturity from her, but Draco was always difficult to predict. It was so easy to forget that they were still mere children, so easy to treat them as adults when the difference between them and the rest of their class was so vast.

"Do you disapprove?" she asked quietly, pulling him from his thoughts.

He was silent for a while, trying to decide how to answer such an innocent question. _Why the devil would she care whether or not I approve?_ he thought in surprise.

"I do not disapprove, but I _would_ advise you to be cautious in your dealings with Mister Malfoy. He is a troubled young man who does not know his own mind at this point. I would not tell you to distrust him, per se, but I also would not advise you to place undue faith in him. Let him earn your good graces," he said calmly, in a measured tone.

"I see... yes, I understand, sir. I feel, however, that he has changed from the boy I knew in the past, he appears to have matured past the petty pranks."

"Yes, that much is true. Life has not been kind to him, though, I'm sure you are already aware of that."

"No, it hasn't. I _am_ sorry for what he must have gone through," she said slowly, sincerely. "But it doesn't excuse his past behaviour, and I cannot say that because of his ordeal, I trust him. I sympathize with him, definitely, especially after everything I've been through, but a common loss doesn't make us best friends,"

"Well, I am pleased to hear you are being cautious," Severus said approvingly.

"Thank you, sir."

"I think it would do you good to sleep now; do you require anything?"

"No, thank you, sir; I think sleep would be a good idea, though... Thank you again for your concern professor," Hermione said with a slight smile.

"Very well," he replied with a curt nod. "Rest well."

Settling down more comfortably, Hermione watched professor Snape walk off. He seemed less snarky and hateful lately, as though her was slowly warming to her. It was strange. The very _idea_ of professor Snape expressing concern for her was mystifying. Yet mere moments ago, he was concerned that she was placing too much trust in Draco, his own godson! And Draco himself seemed so alarmed to see her in the infirmary in such a state. The tentative friendship seemed to be evolving into some measure of concern between them. It seemed to Hermione that so much had changed already since the holidays began; professor Snape was being kind and more approachable, Draco was expressing concern and being friendly and even the other professors seemed to have stopped obsessing over her. It was completely and utterly baffling.

*****

Three sharp knocks sounded at the door to the headmaster's office. Looking up in surprise, Albus bid them to enter. No sooner had the words left his mouth, the whirlwind that was Minerva swept through the room. She was ranting at him at such a speed and to mark how truly agitated she was, her accent had thickened so much that he had trouble distinguishing the actual words. She turned left and right, marching angrily from one end of the room to the other in an attempt to ease her frustration. After watching this for some time, Albus drew himself up to his full height and loudly instructed her to sit. His voice seemed to shock her out of her frenzied state and she obediently sat in the chair before his desk.

"Now, have some tea and tell me what has gotten you into such a state," Albus said kindly, offering her a teacup.

"She's in the hospital wing, Albus, I walked by and saw her lying there," Minerva said sadly.

"Miss Granger, I assume? Why is she in the infirmary?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but oh, Albus, she looked so terrible! I only saw her arms and face, but I'm thankful I didn't see the rest of her," Minerva said miserably.

"I had no idea...." Albus said, surprised that he was unaware of the situation. "What happened to her?"

"I don't quite know, Albus, but I think you should go see her and talk to Severus, he seems to know what's going on."

"Yes, I believe you are correct Minerva, I don't think I shall interfere though, Severus seems to have everything under control."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Albus, as the headmaster of this school _you_ need to take a more involved and serious role in Hermione's situation. If not as headmaster, then as head of the Order, you _must _take control of this."

"Take control of what exactly, Minerva? I will certainly go see her and speak with the child, but I fail to see what I can do about the, situation, as you put it."

"Talk to the girl, I mean really talk to her, force her to listen to you. I know that you want her to learn from Severus, but do you really wish for her to become like him? Closed and dead to the world? Completely disillusioned with life?"

"Of course not, but she simply shuts down with everyone else. You've seen it first hand, Minerva, what more can I do? If she is able to find understanding and support from Severus, who am I to interfere?"

"I'm not telling you to undercut the boy, Albus; you know I love that boy like he were my own! I just don't want to see Hermione become like him, become cold and emotionally broken. I don't want to you interfere, I want you to show her how to deal with her loss and pain in a healthy manner."

Albus sighed, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I would help her deal with this if only I knew how. I don't want her to follow in Severus' footsteps, but she seems to relate to him so well. I had hoped she would rely on you in this, but she seems to have closed herself off from both you and myself. I've never been at such a loss for what to do before."

"I know, I wish there was something I could do. I hate feeling so helpless!"

"You are not helpless, Minerva, no matter how it may seem to you. You continue to provide your support to Miss Granger even when she does not ask for it or even want it. But when she _does _want your help, she will come to you and your support now will give her the comfort to approach you."

"I hope you are right, Albus," Minerva said sadly.

*****

_Malfoy Manor_

Muffled screams echoed from the depths of the dungeons. The sound stopped abruptly but was followed by a sickening thump. A door clanged open and Lucius strolled out leisurely. He was followed by a MacNair, who was dragging a woman behind him, heedlessly leaving a smear of blood behind.

"Take her to the alley and put this Portkey in her hand," Lucius instructed curtly. "Do _not_ come back until you are sure the Portkey was activated and her body was transported, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. I'll handle it." MacNair replied roughly, adjusting his grasp on the woman's body.

Without another word, Lucius turned and walked purposefully back toward the stairs and went upstairs to the main floor. Upon reaching his study, he called his owl and sat down to write a quick message.

_It has been done_

_LM_

After sending the note, he sat back and sighed, a grim smile lingering on his face. Life was good.

*****

_The Burrow_

Molly simultaneously smacked Ron's and Fred's hands away from the plate of bacon, before bustling away to the stove. Breakfast in the Weasley household was nothing less than chaotic. The kitchen was packed full of hungry, sleepy boys all intent on getting the most food as fast as possible. There was lots of jostling but all of that stopped abruptly as the kitchen door slammed open and a flustered Arthur strode in.

"Arthur? Whatever is the matter?" Molly asked pushing her way toward him.

"It's a disaster! An absolute disaster! No one is to leave this house today, _no one,_" Arthur said emphatically, sinking tiredly into a chair.

"What is, dear? What happened?" Molly asked, hovering near him worriedly.

"There has been another attack; here, read this," he replied, handing his wife the front page of the morning paper.

_Brutal Murder in Diagon Alley_

_Tragedy strikes early this morning as store owners opening their shops found the body of Eleanor Jones laying sprawled on main street. The young vice minister appears to have been dead for approximately five to seven hours. Cause of death is still unknown, but the body showed many signs of torture and mutilation. The perpetrators of this gruesome crime have yet to be apprehended. The shock of such a violent crime being committed in one of the safest parts of Wizarding London is overwhelming to both shop owners and customers alike. _

"_It was horrible," says Marcus Drumm, a cashier at Flourish & Blotts book store. "There was a pool of blood around her and she looked so gruesome, I'm sure I'll be having nightmares for years!"_

_Mr. Drumm was responsible for opening the bookstore this morning, but I doubt he will ever volunteer for that job again after the events of this morning. He was not the only person shaken by the vicious crime, many shop owners have decided to close up for the day. _

_Perhaps most baffling about this crime is that Vice Minister Jones was overall loved by most witches and wizards. She was perhaps one of the very few top ministry officials that had no enemies. Or perhaps, it appeared she had no enemies, for she clearly had a dangerous enemy to have ended up in such a state._

_We were unable to get a comment from her family members or the minister. We were informed, however, that Minister Fudge would be issuing a formal statement late this afternoon. A special evening edition will be printed to cover the Minister's statement and any further developments to the case._

_Our sincere condolences go to Vice Minister Jones' family and friends._

_Madeline Ringstone_

The once clambering kitchen fell silent; a pin drop could've been heard. The news was a complete shock. The vice Minister was dead. All thoughts of breakfast dropped from everyone's minds. The vice Minister was dead. The news was so shocking, but it shouldn't have been. Anyone was a target now, especially ministry employees. Yet the news still had a jarring effect on the inhabitants of the Burrow. The vice Minister was dead.

"They don't know who did it, or why, but I think we can all guess who was really behind this," Arthur said tiredly.

"Voldemort," Harry growled, saying what everyone else was thinking.

"Unfortunately, yes. I don't see who else it could have been. No doubt the Aurors will be working double-time to solve this murder," Arthur agreed.

"Will the Order be meeting then, dad?" Fred asked.

"Yes, I imagine they will. This is a high profile murder, one that cannot be easily overlooked by anyone."

"Things are getting worse, aren't they?" Ginny asked quietly. "I mean, first Cedric, then the attack on Hermione, and now the vice Minister? He's getting stronger, right?"

Molly and Arthur shared a worried look. They could not keep the children ignorant for long, nor would it be wise, but they were still only children.

"Well, it is very sad news, but I don't think you children need to concern yourselves with it... professor Dumbledore will sort it all out," Molly said purposefully.

"I agree. This is out of our control, and certainly not something you lot need to worry about over breakfast," Arthur said, folding the paper up and putting it away out of sight. "Now then, Molly, what's for breakfast?"

* * *

_Thanks for reading, leave a review please! :)_


	19. Confessions

_Hey all!_

_Yes, it's true, I live!!!!! okay, so you should all be very happy to know that I am not going to be in school for the next 4 months, I am taking a much needed term off... my first summer in like 4 years! whoo hoo! Anyway, what this means for you guys is, that I'll have insane amounts of time off, in which I can WRITE!! So yeah, I hope this slightly longer chapter can act as an "I'm sorry I've been MIA" gift? *looks hopeful*_

_Anyway, I'm going to stop blabbing and let you get on with the chapter... hope you all like it! :)_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot_

_ps. sorry for any grammatical errors... I think I've been staring at this chapter for too long... let me know if you find any mistakes and I'll try an look over it again soon.  
_

* * *

Chapter 19 - Confessions

_December 30__th_

Hermione stretched, enjoying the feeling of being able to do so again. Madam Pomfrey had removed most of the stitches the previous evening, hoping that she could be released soon. Her wounds were thankfully staying sealed shut, but she would have to be careful. Nevertheless, all things considered, Hermione felt good. She felt human again, rather than feeling like a broken rag doll held together by thread. More than anything, she was eagerly looking forward to a shower. All the blood, while magically removed, still left her body feeling dirty and unclean. Sinking back into the bed comfortably, Hermione snapped to attention upon hearing someone enter the Hospital Wing.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," Severus said politely, pleased to see she was awake.

"Good morning, Professors," Hermione replied cautiously, anxiety building at seeing the headmaster and Professor McGonagall following him into the room.

"You look well, how do feel?" Severus asked giving her a piercing and assessing look. Albus and Minerva seemed to be surprised by his uncharacteristically caring question, if not by his usual cutting tone.

"Thank you, Professor, I feel much better, it's nice to have most of the stitches out," Hermione said with a small smile.

"Good. I trust you will be ready to resume your training in a few days?" Severus continued, all business.

"Severus! Don't be absurd, the child cannot simply leap back into action after such injuries!" Minerva protested.

"It's all right, Professor," Hermione appeased. "I look forward to resuming my training, I will be ready to start as soon as I am released."

"Very good," came the curt reply from the Potions master.

"Surely that is not wise," Minerva said concernedly.

"I'm inclined to agree, Severus, I am not sure that is the best course of action at this time," Albus said mildly, involving himself for the first time since they entered.

"If she has no objection, I hardly see what issue you could have," Severus drawled.

"I won't over exert myself, but I would like to get back to my usual routine," Hermione chimed in quietly but firmly.

"There you have it, Headmaster, she will be cautious. We will _both_ be cautious," Severus confirmed.

"I do not approve of this, but I will allow you to continue," Albus said, not wanting to push too hard when it was obvious the girl wanted to continue her lessons. She was already so resistant to both himself and Minerva, he did not want to risk alienating her further. Although, this eagerness to return to training bothered him... it seems unnatural somehow. Perhaps he had left her on her own with Severus too long.

"Well then, we'll let you rest, but as soon as you are released, come to my office please," Albus said getting ready to leave. "Come along, Minerva."

"Very well, take care, my dear, I do hope you recover soon," Minerva said kindly.

"Thank you, professor, I believe I will be well soon," Hermione replied politely.

Professor Snape remained behind and watched as the two elder professors left. Once the door was firmly shut, he turned back to the Hermione.

"We will reduce your sessions and proceed at a slower pace until you recover further."

"Really, Professor, that's not necessary, I'll be fine soon," Hermione protested.

"I did not ask for your opinion, Miss Granger, I am telling you how things will proceed," Snape replied in a curt tone. "Unless you would prefer to cease your training all together...."

"No! No, please, I'd rather continue," Hermione exclaimed, afraid that he would take back his earlier statement and abide by the headmaster's wishes after all.

"Then you will do as you are told and adhere to my conditions," he declared.

"Yes, professor," she conceded, sinking back into the bed in defeat.

"Good, get some rest," he said before turning and stalking out of the hospital wing.

* * *

Draco reported to Severus' office at 9:00 PM sharp. If there was one useful thing his father had taught him, it was the value of punctuality. The door to Snape's office swung open and he was faced with the imposing figure of his godfather glaring down at him. His expression softened slightly upon seeing Draco. Stepping back, Severus beckoned the boy to enter into the room.

"Draco, come, we'll get started," Severus said briskly, walking in the direction of the lab.

Draco trailed dutifully behind his godfather, curious to know what 'getting started' would entail.

"You may hang your robes on this stand," Severus said as he removed his robes and placed them on one of the hooks.

Draco slowly took off his robes, carefully hung them on the ornate wooden coat stand in the corner. He was somewhat surprised; he had always assumed everything, including potions, was done wearing robes. Unlike most students, seeing his stern professor without his billowing robes did not startle Draco in the slightest as he had seen his uncle in the casual setting of his home on multiple occasions.

"I'm going to need you to brew some potions for the infirmary, I would do it myself, but my experiments will be needing my attention for the next several days. It will be good practice for you. Now, Madam Pomfrey needs two batches of Blood-Replenishing potion and Wound-Cleaning potion brewed since Miss Granger's incident emptied out her stores, three batches of Pepperup, one batch of Bruise-Healing paste, and one batch of Burn-Healing paste," Severus listed briskly.

"Yes, sir... umm, when would you like them finished by?" Draco asked cautiously, hoping he would not be chastised for being impertinent, yet concerned that he would be required to finish them all in one day, which was not very reasonable.

Turning to look directly at the boy, Severus eased his stance, hoping to put him at ease. "This is not an assignment, Draco. You are assisting me, nothing more. They need to be brewed, bottled and stored by the first day of term at latest. However, it would be in your best interest to finish them sooner so you may be able to assist me in brewing more complicated and interesting potions."

"Oh, I see, of course," Draco replied, feeling very much relieved by the lack of immediate demands. He was not a lazy person by nature, and he knew that his godfather valued efficiency, so he would complete his task as quickly as possible. Still, it was nice not to have any strict demands placed on him.

"Good. There's a textbook on your bench that has instructions for all the potions I've asked you to brew."

"Thank you, sir."

Draco decided to start with the Pepperup Potion, since it was required in the greatest quantity. The brewing process was fairly simple, so he allowed his mind to wander a little as he worked. Severus was at the far bench working on his experiments. It was interesting to see him in his element. Every movement was smooth and calculated, flowing with the ease of years of experience. It was a strange sort of gracefulness. For a man who was always stern and stiff, it was pleasant to see him loose and at ease. It seemed like the world didn't exist around him, as though he'd forgotten that Draco was in the room. Draco proceeded to prepare his ingredients, using the time and calming atmosphere to think. No matter where he started, his thoughts always cycled back to the resounding question of what he was going to do. It was frustrating that he was unable to think of anything else, but fitting, since it would be a choice that would determine his entire future. Chopping carefully, he considered his options: Join the Dark Lord or, Join Harry Potter. Either option was a death sentence.

_Just bloody brilliant._

Adding his freshly chopped ingredients, he reached for a mortar and pestle so he could grind his second ingredient. _I don't suppose I can be neutral, can I?_ He asked himself pointlessly, already knowing the answer. He was a Malfoy; he did not have luxury of being neutral in anything, let alone the war. The next logical question that followed, was if, and it was a rather large if, he chose the side of the Order and Harry Potter, would they even accept him? Would they believe him to be sincere? Short of Veritaserum, he didn't think so. In his mind, it was not so much a choice in terms of ideology, but rather, what would ensure his survival. While he may have, in the past, parroted the ideals his father preached, he knew with startling certainty that he no longer believed in those same ideals. While he was aware that he still harboured some prejudice about blood purity, he was not fanatical about it. He did not believe muggleborns to be lesser beings. All that pureblood propaganda was just that, propaganda. If he submitted himself to the Dark Lord, would the maniac realize that he was not a true believer? _Probably... which means I am literally a dead man walking_. Adding the last ingredient, he began stirring the cauldron, while contemplating using his family's considerable wealth to flee the continent. _Heh, I'd probably get caught before I could even leave the manor, let alone the country._ It was a pleasant thought though, leaving behind England and indeed, the entire continent of Europe. Surely the Malfoys weren't know in America or Canada.

"How's it coming?" Severus asked, startling Draco from his musings.

"Huh... what?" Draco started. "Sorry, Uncle, what did you ask?"

"I asked how it was coming... is everything all right?" Severus asked, brow furrowing in concern.

"Oh, just fine, sir," Draco replied, not ceasing his stirring motions.

"Are you all right? You seem distracted."

"Forgive me, yes, I am fine, Uncle Severus... I apologize for my distraction, I do not believe I have made any errors in the potion."

"I am not accusing you of anything, Draco, no need to be so defensive. I was merely concerned. I assure you, I have full faith in you abilities, distracted or no," Severus assured. He hated how the boy always seemed so eager to apologize and immediately assumed he had done something wrong.

"Yes, Uncle, I apologize," Draco replied quietly.

"Merlin, boy, do not jump to an apology at every turn! Only apologize if you have done something wrong, not for every little thing," Severus finally exclaimed in exasperation.

"I'm-" Draco started, about to apologize yet again, but he caught himself before he made an even bigger fool of himself. Unsure of how to respond to his godfather's sudden exclamation, he frowned before saying meekly, "it was not my intention to annoy you, Uncle."

"You are not annoying me, Draco, but I worry that you are so eager to take blame for inconsequential things. Things you should not be apologizing for," Severus said seriously.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Uncle... I should not have let my mind wander, therefore I was at fault. Is it not proper for me to apologize for that?"

"When brewing simple potions, letting your mind wander can be rather cathartic, so I do not blame you. I was not accusing you of anything, Draco, therefore you had nothing to apologize for."

"I see... as you wish, Uncle Severus," Draco conceded, unsure of what to say.

Severus sighed. "Tell me, Draco, where did your mind wander off to while you were brewing?"

"Oh... um, here and there, really, nothing specific," Draco hedged.

"You looked fairly worried for it to have been nothing," Severus commented perceptively.

"I- well- I was thinking about Granger actually... about how she looked all sewn up like that," Draco said eventually. He wasn't _lying_ per se, he had been thinking about her, his godfather didn't have to know that he was thinking about how disgusted he was that his father had done such a thing or that he was questioning his position in the Dark Lord's circle.

Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had not expected that. "I see... and what were your thoughts on her... situation?"

"Honestly? I am amazed that she could have lived through all that and that she is as strong as she is now."

"Yes, I must admit, I admire her strength as well," Severus admitted freely.

"You do? I mean... father did that to her, didn't he?" Draco asked quietly, wondering idly if his godfather would admit it or try and distract him.

Severus fixed him with a piercing look, as though trying to decipher his simple question. Sighing, he silently approached the bench and handed him a rack of bottles for the now completed potion.

"Let's bottle this and have a chat in my office, hmm?"

"Oh... um... sure," Draco replied, surprised and suddenly anxious.

They bottled the batch of Pepperup quickly and ten minutes later they were seated in Severus' office. Severus summoned some tea, wanting to be comfortable for what he assumed would be a long discussion.

"Before you voice your question again, Draco, I must ask you... are you _certain_ this is a discussion you wish to have?" Severus asked vaguely, trusting his godson would understand the implication.

"Can you assure me that this conversation will not leave this room? That _no one_ will be privy to this discussion?" Draco countered apprehensively. He was treading on very delicate ground, not to mention risking his life by merely asking such a question. If his father or the Dark Lord found out about this discussion his life would end and no doubt, very slowly and painfully.

"I guarantee you, what is said in this office will remain strictly confidential. I would never do anything to put you in harms' way. There is _nothing_ that would tempt me to risk your safety," Severus assured sincerely.

"I hoped you'd say that," Draco said, relief evident in his voice. "Forgive my impertinence, but might I have an oath that this conversation will stay confidential... it's not that I don't trust you, but it wouldn't do me any harm to be overly cautious, I hope you understand."

"Of course, I take no offence to the suggestion. I will gladly give you a wand oath," Severus agreed readily, pulling out his wand.

Oath completed, Severus picked up his teacup and looked to Draco expectantly.

"Right... so I guess I'll start with the question I asked before: did father do this to Granger?"

"I was under the impression you already knew the answer to that question," Severus replied astutely.

Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"I assume you want to see if I will admit it to you, am I correct?" Severus asked, once again hitting the nail on the head

"Well, yes, I suppose I was wondering that," Draco admitted awkwardly.

"Then I shall satisfy you. Yes, your father did have a hand in what happened to Miss Granger and is partly, though directly, responsible for her current condition."

"What do you mean, partly?"

"Your father did not act alone, there were other Death Eaters involved... before you ask, no I will not tell you who else participated."

"I see... I- please don't be angry or offended... I have to ask-" Draco stuttered apologetically.

"I was not involved. I did not know anything until after she was rescued, you may ease your mind on that account," Severus interrupted, knowing that Draco would want to be assured of his innocence in the matter.

"Thank Merlin," Draco muttered, relieved beyond measure by his godfather's assurance. "If you were approached, would you have considered participating?" he asked, trying to ascertain Severus' position on the matter.

"No, I would not have. I take no pleasure in causing others pain, least of all innocents."

"But then... you... I _know_ you are a Death Eater... I don't understand," Draco said haltingly, confused by his godfather's statement.

"I am... but the situation is complicated, I will not say more than that," Severus said carefully. It was too early to tell if it would be safe to divulge that particular truth.

Draco was silent for a moment, his mind filling in the blanks a little. "I- I don't think I am cut out for this... I don't think I can devote myself to the Dark Lord, I know I can't stomach that kind of violence," he finally admitted, cringing in advance for what he assumed would be anger from his godfather.

"I see... tell me Draco, what exactly are you saying? I must be clear on this... do not be afraid," Severus asked earnestly.

"I- I think I'm saying that I don't want to become a Death Eater, but I also know that saying that is like signing my own death sentence."

"I see... do you wish to join the Order and the side of Light then?"

"To be honest, I want to stay neutral."

"I think we both know that is not an option for you. You _must _choose, one way or another."

"I know... I know, it's just that... well- I just- I never thought the side with Potter was ever an option for me either...."

"If that is what you choose, Professor Dumbledore would protect you, from both your father and the Dark Lord. Assuming, of course, that your desire to fight for the Light is sincere."

"I'm not sure it is... I don't know what to think anymore!" Draco wailed, his mind in turmoil. "Ever since mother died, I haven't been able to think straight! I _know_ I don't want to become like my father, but I also don't think I belong by the side of the Golden Trio, no matter how friendly I am with Granger."

"That's perfectly understandable, all things considered. I must admit, I am relieved beyond measure you know that you do not intend on following in your father's footsteps... that is not the life your mother wanted for you, the life _I_ want for you."

"What do you want for me, Uncle Severus? I'm so confused about your role and position in all this."

"I want you to be alive, safe and happy, Draco. It's as simple as that." Severus replied honestly.

"Even if I don't follow the Dark Lord?" Draco asked sceptically.

Inclining his head, Severus confirmed the question. "I want what is best for you... always. Your safety and happiness will always be my first priority."

"Thank you... I know you don't say that lightly... it's nice to know there is at least one person in this world who is looking out for me," Draco said, giving his godfather a sad, but heartfelt smile.

"Of course. Now then, I believe you should give yourself some time to come to terms with your new decision. I want to you think about it, _really think_ and I will ask you back here in one week to discuss this once again. At that time, if you are still of the same mind, I will set up a meeting between yourself and Professor Dumbledore, is that acceptable to you?"

"Yes... I believe that would be best," Draco agreed readily. "Uncle Severus, will you be there when I meet with Dumbledore? That is to say, _can_ you be there?"

"... yes, I can and will be there. I will not abandon you to your fate, Draco," Severus assured, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder for comfort.

"Thank you... for everything."

* * *

_Malfoy Manor_

Lucius Malfoy was pleased. The ripples of fear and terror in the Wizarding community were practically tangible, and if there was one thing that made Lucius happy, it was fear. The ministry, in their idiocy, were scrambling and mired in confusion and chaos. The fact that such a high level official could not only be kidnapped but murdered without a trace of evidence pointing to a perpetrator was both embarrassing and terrifying to those bureaucratic fools. For once, he was rather enjoying his visits to the ministry, it was immensely satisfying to see them all rushing to and fro in various states of frenzied fear and disorder. It was like watching rats in a maze, scurrying around with no idea where to go or what to do.

_Pathetic fools,_ Lucius thought with disgust. _Hardly better than muggles._

Leaning back in his chair, Lucius idly twirled a lock of strawberry red hair between his fingers. The only physical evidence that he had encountered the young vice minister. It was like a trophy of sorts. A symbol of the ministry's ignorance and of his triumph. Smirking, he replaced the lock of hair in the inside pocket of his suit, before getting up and stalking out of the house.

After all, it wouldn't do to be late for his meeting with the Minister.

* * *

_Investigation or Interrogation?_

_As Aurors continue to look into the tragic death of Vice Minister Jones, many proprietors of Diagon Alley are becoming frustrated by the tactics employed by the Ministry's Law Enforcement agents. What started out as routine questioning of shop owners, seems to have degenerated into interrogations and veiled accusations as Aurors become aggravated by the lack of progress in the case..._

_To read more, see page 3._

_Page 7 – Another Threat On The Horizon_

_The recent murder in Diagon Alley has thrown Wizarding London into a state of shock. The question most citizens are asking themselves, however, is even more disturbing: is there a new threat to our safety other than You-Know-Who?_

_It is a fear that can be seen on the faces of nearly all magical folk in London, and it is not an unfounded one. Speculations about who this new and dangerous force could be, has been running rampant these last few days. Others say that just because it hasn't been marked as one of You-Know-Who's crimes, doesn't mean it wasn't his doing. But why would Death Eaters allow for anyone else to take credit for their crimes? There has been a long history of You-Know-Who marking his victims, so why would he change his modus operandi now? This is the question that many witches and wizards in London are asking themselves. _

_So the next logical question that follows is, is there another murderous gang out on the streets of Wizarding London?_

_The idea that another organization is wreaking such havoc is a terrifying thought to many. It makes one wonder if there will ever be peace in magical Britain, or if we are only destined for perpetual war. Living in the midst of this second war with You-Know-Who, the feelings of melancholy and continual terror are wearing people down. The tension in the ministry is virtually tangible and this latest incident has amplified those feelings tenfold. Auror investigations are continuing but yielding few results. _

_It's time for witches and wizards in England to stand up and demand more from our law enforcement._

_To read more on this debate, see page 6._

Harry threw down the paper in disgust. For once, he could not be angry at the contents of the paper, as the reporting was miraculously legitimate and meaningful. He was, however, frustrated beyond belief by the lack of progress being made in the investigations. What was taking so bloody long? How complicated could it be? Brutal murders weren't exactly common in the Wizarding world unless it was Voldemort's doing, so why all the blasted speculation! Still, what infuriated Harry even more than the lack of progress by the Aurors, was the degree of inaction Dumbledore and the Order were showing. The feeling that they should be _doing_ something, anything, rather than sitting around helplessly was overwhelming. Of course, they still refused to tell him anything, heaven forbid they keep him informed, it's only his life after all! After everything that had happened, they still insisted on treating him like a child, except when it suited them of course.

_Like when they wanted me to save the Wizarding world, for example_, he thought sardonically.

Sighing, he shook himself from his thoughts. This was a mental argument he had regularly, but no matter how many times he griped over it, the result was unchanging. He would not be admitted into the Order's mental processes for a very long time. And unfortunately, no amount of arguing was going to change that. To think, it all cycled back to that damn prophesy and his so-called destiny.

_I hate feeling useless... helpless..._

Why couldn't the Order at least _appear_ to be aiding the investigation? Why was Dumbledore so adamantly refusing to involve himself? It just didn't make sense! Now would be the ideal opportunity to show a sign of good faith on behalf of the Order. Alas, the inner workings of Albus Dumbledore's mind were a mystery to all, and prophesy or not, a mystery to Harry as well.

_Such is the life of a boy destined to save an entire race, _Harry thought dramatically. _Dear gods, now I sound like that brainless twit, Lavender,_ he thought in disgust. _Or worse, Trelawney._ Now that was a terrifying thought. _Next thing I know I'll be predicting my own death!_ Although, perhaps that wasn't too far from the truth... he was nowhere near ready to face off with Voldemort, but with all these murders happening he almost wanted to go out and issue a challenge. He knew better than to be so rash. These last few years, the war had gotten real... too real. People he knew and loved were dying and being hurt.

_Sirius, Hermione, Cedric..._

And those were just the most recent victims, and those he knew personally. _One day,_ he thought determinedly. _One day I will put an end to this, I'll make them all pay,_ he promised himself. But for now, he'd keep his promise to Hermione, he wouldn't do anything stupid or rash... for now.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please_! :)


	20. As Bells Chime

_Hey all!_

_I'm back! For any of you wonderfully loyal readers who are still following this story, thank you! You've all been incredibly patient with me, and if I haven't replied to a review, I apologise, but I do read them all and I love hearing from you all._

_I promise, I have NOT abandoned this story. I had a major case of writers block and I've also had a weird medical situation going on which has prevented me from writing. I had trouble finishing this chapter, but I have the next 8 planned out properly, so there shouldn't be such a long wait again._

_Anyway, enough chatter from me,_

_I hope you enjoy the chapter :)_

-DeceptiveFates

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, all else is property of JKR.

* * *

Chapter 20 – As Bells Chime

The castle was abuzz with excitement and anticipation for the New Year. The unfortunate incident with the vice minister was temporarily forgotten as the holiday cheer seeped back into the hearts and minds of the students. The anticipation Hermione felt, however, had nothing to do with the holidays. She was crouched low behind an overturned table, her body thrumming with adrenaline and her posture poised to leap into action.

_Three... two... one..._

The table she was using as a shield blasted apart, splintering and falling away in a haphazard fashion. She quickly rolled to the side, avoiding being pierced by the sharp wood fragments. In a jerky motion, she righted herself, kneeling down with one knee before thrusting forward and running toward the opposite wall, streaks of colour chasing her mercilessly. Hermione reached the wall and conjured a shield before summoning another physical barrier, this time a chest of drawers. Once the chest was in front of her, she dropped her shield, leaned around the barrier, and fired three spells in quick succession. Hearing the light _ding_ of one of her enemies going down, she leaned around the other side of the chest and fired another two spells. Momentarily distracted by firing the spells, she did not have time to prepare as her barrier was once again blasted into a pile of woodchips. This time, she was not so lucky as to avoid the sharp shards, and she was thrown backwards into the wall by the force of the blast.

A sharp whistle sounded and the demolished room instantly melted away and was replaced by a comfortable sitting room. Hermione remained against the wall, panting with exertion and continued to bleed onto the soft carpet.

"Cornering yourself was a mistake," Severus drawled casually from his spot on the couch.

Hermione lolled her head in his direction and glared. "Yes, I gathered that much, thank you."

"Do you intend on bleeding out onto the floor all afternoon?" he asked in an equally sarcastic tone.

"Maybe..." she said petulantly.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly telling her what he thought of her childish response. Her duelling lessons had progressed to the level of simulations, although they were still only using stationary targets. According to his word, Severus ensured that she did not overtax herself. It was due to this caution that he raised himself from the couch and went to help the girl up. If not for her already weakened state he would have left her to fend for herself.

"Thank you," she said quietly after he helped her up and released her.

"Go see Madam Pomfrey," he said curtly, giving her a nod.

"Yes, sir."

Tiredly, Hermione dragged herself across the room and out the door. She trudged her way towards the infirmary. She cringed slightly before pushing open the door. She was likely going to get a long lecture from the Mediwitch and really wished she could be spared the inconvenience.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione called out.

"I'll be with you in a moment, dear," the Mediwitch replied, her voice filtering in from one of the back rooms.

Hermione pulled herself onto one of the beds, grateful for a chance to sit and relax before the Mediwitch would start scolding her and filling her with unpleasant potions. Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room but stopped short when she saw Hermione sitting on a bed, bloody and looking very much like she had been trampled by a hippogriff.

"What on earth happened to you this time?"

"Duelling practice," Hermione said shrugging casually.

"Duel- Oh for heaven's sake!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

"Sorry?" Hermione said feigning innocence while trying to appease the older woman.

She huffed disbelievingly but got out a tray of potions anyway. Within a few moments Hermione was healed and cleared to return to her daily activities, so long as she didn't overly exert herself any more that day. Hermione beat a hasty retreat, thankful to have been able to avoid yet another long winded lecture. Tiredly, she trudged her way to Gryffindor Tower, eager to shower and wash away the grime and sweat. Upon emerging from her shower, Hermione quickly left the comfort of the common room and the overenthusiastic students it contained, in favour of seeking solace in her sanctuary, the library.

She entered the large room and sighed happily, it was blissfully empty. Wandering between the shelves, Hermione collected a few books here and there before meandering over to her favourite table.

"Malfoy?" she asked surprised. Apparently, the library wasn't entirely empty. There in her favourite spot sat the Slytherin prince, lounging comfortably with some books of his own.

"Granger," he acknowledged cautiously.

Hermione shifted, unsure of how to proceed. The tentative friendship between them was perplexing at best and left her uncertain as to how to behave in his presence.

"Something you wanted, Granger?" he asked pointedly.

"Uh, no, nothing..." she choked out uncomfortably. Hermione turned to leave, but then thought better of it. "Actually, would you mind if I joined you?"

Thoroughly surprised, Draco lowered his book and frowned momentarily, before noting the sincerity in her countenance and inclined his head in acceptance.

"Thanks," she murmured taking the seat across from him. She sat stiffly for a few moments, uncomfortable with the situation and unsure how to behave before shaking her head and opening her book.

Draco glanced at her over the top of his book, wondering why the Gryffindor would choose to sit with him when the entire library was empty of students. He still wasn't sure exactly how the Gryffindor girl viewed him; it was a topic of confusion for him. Even he wasn't sure what he thought of her, let alone their strange interactions. Sometimes it seemed like she loathed him as though he were Lucius Malfoy himself, yet at other times, she treated him as a fellow victim of his father's cruel crimes. To be fair, he still wasn't sure if he considered Granger as his enemy or acquaintance either... he would not go so far as to call her a friend yet, but she wasn't exactly his enemy anymore either... at least, he didn't think she was his enemy anymore...

_Bah, thinking about this only gives me a headache,_ he thought in frustration. Giving himself a vigorous mental shake, he focussed on his book again, hoping the words of the tome would draw him away from reality.

They passed nearly two hours simply sitting and reading, each in their own world, completely engrossed in the books they were reading. Draco was reading simply to get his mind off of the impossible task of deciding what to do about his future, a decision that he had yet to make, and which he had very little time in which to decide as well. Hermione, on the other hand, was still hell bent on trying to figure out what that strange hallway was about. Unfortunately, she had yet to find even a shred of information about the mysterious hallway, and the room she had found. Equally frustrating, was that she had been unable to find the room again, despite her concerted efforts.

Before they knew it, it was time for dinner, and after setting down their books, the awkwardness returned. It was getting very confusing since neither of them hated each other with the same ferocity as before, yet they didn't know if they actually _could_ get along either.

"So, I guess we should head to dinner then, shouldn't we?" Hermione said pleasantly.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Draco replied, still unsure what was going on with her to warrant such courtesy. Deciding that it couldn't do any harm, Draco followed her out of the library.

Hermione walked at a comfortable pace, walking beside Malfoy, though not exactly _with_ Malfoy. Perhaps she was just in a good mood today, but Hermione was tired of the awkwardness and confusion that went along with any interaction with the blond Slytherin. She may have changed in recent times, but she was still Hermione Granger. And if there was one thing Hermione Granger was not, it was indecisive. So, with that thought in mind, she mentally decided to mend fences with Malfoy, and if not become friends, at least become friendly acquaintances. After all, it was clear to her now, that Malfoy was not the same maniacal bigot his father was.

* * *

Dinner was a fairly short affair, and it was a blessing when it was over, for all concerned, though not all for the same reason. Tonight was New Year's Eve, and the headmaster decided it would be a good idea for all the remaining residents of Hogwarts to ring in the new year with a fancy ball in the Great Hall. Needless to say, not all the professors were thrilled with the idea, nor were a certain pair of students either. Yet, as usual, the headmaster made the function mandatory, and so like it or not, they all had to take the time to dress up and look nice for the last celebration of the year.

Sometimes, Hermione just couldn't understand how Dumbledore could remain so cheery when the entire Wizarding world was a mess of worry and fear. Gripe as she might, Hermione could not help but notice that the idea of a celebration was happily welcomed by the other students and even many of the professors. Perhaps everyone else needed to feel excited about something. After the mess that was the Yule ball in fourth year, Hermione was less keen on these formal celebrations, and with recent events, she was even more disinclined to participate in such festivities. Regardless, as much as she wished she could skip the event, she decided that if participation was required, she might as well do it in style. With the numerous injuries she had sustained in the recent past, it would be nice to feel feminine and beautiful for a change. She indulged her bout of vanity by pulling out a muggle dress she had bought last year for a fancy Christmas dinner with her family. With a few alterations and magical enhancements, it was worthy of a Hogwarts ball.

* * *

Draco quickly put on his dress robes and smoothed them over with the mindless efficiency of a wizard born and raised in the elite society of purebloods, where balls and formal functions were as regular as Quidditch practice. As a Malfoy, looking sharp at any occasion was a basic requirement, so while he had no one to impress at this simple Hogwarts ball, he still took the time to ensure his appearance was flawless. Looking at himself in the mirror, he smirked. He looked _good_ and he had no problem admitting it. To be fair, his robes were of the highest quality and tailored to perfection. The subtle silver accents to his inky black robes and the subdued Malfoy emblem on the lapel gave the outfit a flourish that only money could buy.

In a dungeon room not far away, a certain professor also stood before a mirror. Though where the younger man smirked, this man sneered at his reflection, disdain oozing from his very countenance.

_Crazy old coot, forcing me to participate in his inane activities... I'd rather be teaching idiotic first years than parading around with him like a bloody lunatic,_ he griped mentally, but still giving himself a once-over before forcing himself out the door.

"Uncle Severus!" Draco called from the end of the hall, quickening his pace so he could catch up to the older man. "Waiting until the last minute to get up there, sir?"

"Precisely. Mandatory attendance doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"Ha, well, to be fair, you probably would skip out of every meal and event if he didn't have that rule... hell, half of Hogwarts would skip these functions without that rule!"

"True enough."

"You're certainly looking sharp tonight, Draco. You're mother would be proud," Severus commented mildly after sweeping his eyes over his godson and taking in his appearance.

"T-Thank you, Sir," Draco said haltingly, surprised by the sudden compliment. Openly kind words from his godfather were few and far between, though when given, always sincere and heartfelt. Perhaps it was the rarity of such words that made them all the more precious to him. For a man often seen as socially inept, he certainly knew how to say the exact right thing to those he loved. And love him he did, while the rest of the world only sees the horrible potions master, Draco had known the man since infancy, and in those days when he was still a small child, he had played and laughed with his reserved godfather in a manner that others would not believe to even be possible. Now, more than ever, Draco was certain his godfather loved him; their conversation yesterday was unequivocal proof of that fact.

They walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in comfortable silence. Draco felt a surge of warmth toward his godfather, a sort of subdued happiness and relief lingered in his mind, giving him a feeling of peace that he had not felt in many months. It was strange how the simple act of showing affection, no matter how veiled, could appease the mind.

"Ah, our Slytherins have arrived!" Albus exclaimed joyously, beckoning the reluctant men into the hall eagerly. "Come now, you two, don't linger near the doors, come mingle and enjoy yourselves! And Severus, there's no need to glare, it's a night for celebration."

"You can force me to attend these frivolous parties of yours, but if you think you can make me enjoy this, you will be severely disappointed," Severus said dryly.

"Ah, perhaps next year, then," Albus sighed, his ever present optimism persevering despite Severus' best efforts to quench it.

Somewhere in the middle of that brief conversation, Draco managed to slip away unnoticed. He made a beeline for the punch bowl, and after securing himself a drink, he found an empty corner he intended to call his own for the night. He smirked to himself as he watched the younger students avoiding glares from his godfather. It was amusing to see how they scuttled away from the intimidating professors, and the way they snuck glances at him as if he was some strange creature.

Suddenly, the entire hall turned and looked at the doors as they creaked open again, admitting the last guest of the night. Hermione glided in shyly. She was so quiet these days, her absence hadn't been noticed, but as she entered the hall, it seemed impossible not to notice her now. In a word, she looked radiant.

Her gown swept to the floor in an elegant swirl of royal blue satin, twinkling softly as the candle light reflected the beading off her gown. The dress was modest, yet alluring as it swayed with her every movement. Clinched at her shoulders with silver clasps, the sleeves hung down to her elbows, a slit along the outer sides, revealing her arms between the satin. Silver accents further segmented the sleeve, evenly placed from shoulder to elbow, subtle and elegant. With a rippled neckline that fell naturally in a slight dip, Hermione had the attention of the entire hall.

Hermione glanced around the room nervously, unsure where she should go, or whom she should talk to, if anyone. Suddenly, without the boys by her side, she felt lost and alone, in a way she hadn't felt since her first few days at Hogwarts. She sipped her punch in an effort to distract herself.

"You look lovely, Miss Granger," professor McGonagall said gently as she walked up to Hermione.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione replied, smiling slightly at the older woman. "I have to say, this is not nearly as grand as the Yule ball was, but it certainly lacks nothing in beauty. The hall looks wonderful," Hermione said as she wandered away from the table with professor McGonagall.

"Mmm I very much agree. Though I admit I am not wholly impartial," Minerva laughed.

Across the hall, Albus stood with Severus watching as the two Gryffindor women talked, and for a moment, in Albus' mind's eye, all was right in the world again. Hermione Granger had always been a shining example of optimism and practicality. She was every professor's ideal of the perfect student, a veritable sponge that eagerly soaked in all the knowledge and information a teacher could give. It was amazing how the change in a single student's attitude could affect the dynamics of an entire class. There was a reason why he always showed his students the indulgent, grandfather image of himself. In a world where war and death seemed to cycle as inevitably as the seasons, there had to remain at least one safe haven for these children. There would be time enough for these young ones to learn the harsh truths of the world, he certainly wasn't going to rush the process by being a stern taskmaster. Perhaps if he thrust the little joys of life at them, some appreciation for the simple pleasures of life would stay with them.

"What new plots are you concocting in that senile old brain of yours, Albus?" Came the sharp voice of his companion, cutting short his mental wanderings and contemplation of grand philosophies.

"Now, Severus, there's no need for that kind of attitude. I was just thinking how nice it is to see Miss Granger talking to Minerva. Minerva has been terribly worried about her all term; it's no secret that Miss Granger is her favourite student, after all."

"Indeed."

"How is her training coming along?"

"Well enough; it's not a complete waste of my time."

"That is high praise indeed, coming from you," Albus laughed.

"I said she is doing fine for now, but she still needs far more training, in both duelling and Occlumency."

"Naturally, my boy, she has only just begun her training. Do keep in mind her delicate state, Severus. Do not push her too hard, too fast; she's been through too much already."

"She's not as delicate as you might think, Albus. She's stronger than you give her credit for."

"Maybe so, but she isn't you, Severus. She may be hiding her pain, but it is not healthy for her to suppress it all. I have made many mistakes in my life, my boy, and one of those mistakes I regret the most, is allowing you to become cold, distant, and alone. I do not want to see her follow in your footsteps. I am very proud of you, though I may not say it often enough, but I still do not want to see Hermione lose that spark of life and become a revenge-driven being, unable to take joy in anything in her life."

"She is dealing with her trauma just fine. You can't force her to heal. She will recover at her own pace, and the sooner you all stop treating her like a fragile piece of glass, the sooner she _will_ recover."

"I hope you're right... how is young Draco doing?" Albus asked, turning the topic to the other student that caused him great worry.

"He's confused. We'll need to talk about his situation later sometime. I think there is hope for him yet," Severus said, then, as an after-thought, added, "thankfully."

* * *

_The Burrow_

"OUT, boys, out!" Molly screeched in frustrated annoyance. "And Bill, dear, ask your father to floo-call Remus and hurry him along, please."

"Sure thing Mum."

The door to the kitchen opened again after a moment, and before he could even enter, Harry was confronted by a spatula being waved threateningly in front of his face.

"Woah, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh, Harry, it's just you, dear, sorry about that. Come in, come in," Molly said kindly backing away and returning to her cooking.

"Did you need something dear?"

"Uh, we finished setting the table. Just thought we'd let you know, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, trying not to make it sound like he was rushing her.

"Oh, good. We're just about finished here. As soon as the others arrive, we'll be ready. Harry, be a dear and clear the boys away from the table and get them all into the sitting room, please?"

Promising that he would, Harry quickly left the kitchen, afraid that if he lingered longer, he would get roped into other difficult tasks. He'd already gotten stuck with one of the hardest jobs; getting six very hungry, over-eager males away from the large dining table where the food would soon be placed. It would be like trying to get a Grindylow to leave water!

Soon, though, the food was ready and placed on the table and everyone was seated. There was a moment of pure stillness, before Molly magically removed the lids off all the dishes, and suddenly, it was a mad dash to get as much food onto your plate as fast as possible, lest you be left without any of the good stuff. After many minutes of scrambling, jostling, and even a few hexes (courtesy of the twins), all their plates were full, and the dishes mostly empty. They all settled down now that the race for food was over, and the meal was relished with appreciation and good cheer.

"Bloody hell, I don't think I can have another bite, even if you paid me," Ron groaned, slumping in his seat.

"If you ate like a proper human rather than stuffing everything in as if it would disappear in a moment, you wouldn't feel so sick," Molly scolded as she continued to eat her dessert.

"Yeah, but mum, the food _actually would_ disappear if I did that... I already lost my second serving of potatoes to George," Ron whined.

"It's not _my _fault you were too slow," George declared haughtily.

"I wasn't _too slow_, George, Fred jinxed me!" Ron accused.

"Now, Ronnickens, don't go blaming others," Fred scolded in his best 'Molly impression'

"Yeah, don't be a spoilsport!" George chimed in.

"Oh, honestly, the way you boys speak, people would believe I don't feed you at all!" Molly exclaimed in exasperation.

"Boys will be boys, my dear," Arthur commented mildly.

"I would consider it a compliment to you, Molly, that the boys are so eager for your amazing cooking," Remus said with a smile.

"Oh, really now, Remus," Molly said blushing.

"Oi, professor Lupin, what're you cozying up to mum for?" Fred asked pretending to be affronted.

"Ooh, you ungrateful imps, you should take lessons from Remus on how to be appreciative, not everything has ulterior motives," Molly admonished.

This is what Harry loved about the Weasleys, and his little adopted family; the love was tangible and the playful banter and easy conversation warmed his heart. It was what he had always longed for... bustling family meals with light-hearted ribbing and good food. Despite all the horrible things that had happened this year, nights like this one made Harry remember the preciousness of family and life. This could be his future if he managed to end the war with Voldemort.

Who could ask for better incentive than that?

* * *

_Malfoy Manor_

New year's eve at the manor was everything that dinner at the Weasley's was not. Where the Burrow was full of love, happiness, and warmth, Malfoy manor was cold, stark, and refined, if a bit haughty. Dinner was a dignified affair with the first two circles of Death Eaters gathered in the large dining hall. The meal was eaten with the kind of formal decorum that could only be seen in high society. There was the soft murmur of quiet conversation, and the sounds of cutlery on china and the light clanging of wine glasses clinked together in the occasional toast. Then, in the archaic fashion of years gone by, the women gathered for tea in the sunroom, while the men retired to the large study to indulge in expensive cigars and fine liquor.

As the hours drew on, the men and a few of the more vicious minded women made their way down to the highly warded, dungeons for lewder forms of entertainment. The cold stone walls had a deadening effect that seemed to emanate dark intent. The sound of their heavy boots and the clacking of heels echoed down the dark corridors. If they stopped and all movement stilled, they could hear the quiet whimpering of captives filtering out of dank chambers, and in that terror of their future victims, their cruel eagerness grew.

They gathered at the end of one of the halls, before a large ornate wooden door. Lucius took up position in the front, and as host, turned to address his guests.

"My friends, I've arranged for some entertainment to help us celebrate the end of this prosperous year. Let your darkest impulses be indulged tonight, and enjoy, delight, and lavish yourselves in the feast of flesh that I gift to you!"

With their anticipation rippling Lucius flung the grand doors open and they sauntered in, eager to satisfy the blood lust that coursed through their very veins.

The chamber had the dead, penetrating silence of fear, pierced only by the occasional scream, the snapping of bones, heavy panting interspersed with morbid laughter that seemed to echo even more loudly off the stone walls than was physically possible. All sensations were heightened, the torturers could practically taste the fear of their victims, as muggle and wizard alike trembled and prayed for a quick death to escape the agony that was sure to come.

The hour approached, the New Year only moments away;

_Ten... Nine..._

Another body fell lifelessly onto the hard stone floor.

* * *

_Eight... Seven..._

Mr. Granger sat alone in his empty house, an album of photos lay haphazardly on the seat beside him, a near empty bottle of vodka dangling loosely from his hand. In a drunken stupor he gazed at the cup of the clear liquid, his mind fuzzy and bitter. He downed the liquor, relishing in the burn that seemed to mimic the pain of his heart.

* * *

_Six... Five..._

Hermione stood with Severus and Draco, their champagne flutes held lightly in anticipation of the New Year, and to mark the end of a year that all three of them were happy to leave behind. The hall glittered beautifully, and a serene calm encompassed the three unlikely companions.

* * *

_Four... Three..._

The Weasleys, Harry, and the few Order members who were without much family, sat cosily in the sitting room, champagne in hand, with the fire crackling merrily, adding physical warmth to the room that was already infused with the warmth of love and companionship that only family could bring.

* * *

_Two..._

A bright flash of yellow light, followed by the sickening crunch of bones being crushed signified the end of another life, the body of a muggle slumped, twitched and finally stilled as the body lay twisted grotesquely against a bloodstained wall.

* * *

_One..._

The magically charmed bells in the Great Halls rang cheerfully, coinciding with the clink of glasses as Severus, Draco, and Hermione toasted the New Year in silence.

* * *

Miniature fireworks exploded shooting confetti in the sitting room of the Burrow as they cheered, hugged, and kissed toasting with boisterous energy.

* * *

He raised his glass in mock salute, draining the last of the alcohol, before letting the glass fall from his hand and clatter to the floor. Finally, his body slumped and his arm fell limp over the arm of the couch, and he slipped into the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness; a land where his wife and child still lived on.

* * *

A sharp, penetrating, scream pierced through the chamber; an inhuman cry spilled from the lips of a Wizard as he writhed and wilted as death took him.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review please :)_


	21. New Year, Old Problems

_Hey all!_

_I promised you a quick update, so here it is! After a LOOOONG period of having no inspiration, I am addicted to writing again. This chapter may seem bland to some, but it is an important segment to the story. I'm working on the next chapter so I hope I can finish it this week._

_Anyway, that's all from me. Enjoy!_

_-DeceptiveFates_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Unfortunately. :(

* * *

Chapter 21 – New Year, Old Problems

The festive atmosphere of the New Year did not last as long as everyone hoped it would. On the second day of the year, the deaths of muggles, witches, and wizards were discovered all across England. The muggles found by police were all labelled as unsolvable murders, as not a shred of evidence was to be found. The Wizarding community, however, knew better. The witches and wizards murdered, were easy open and shut cases for Aurors as they were all found with the dark mark emblazoned on their skin, or what was left of their skin, for some of the unfortunate victims. Unlike the case of vice minister Jones, these witches and wizards were all either muggle-borns or "blood traitors" as Voldemort termed it.

The sudden discoveries of so many bodies all across England, strained the Ministry of Law Enforcement to a breaking point, with Aurors dispersed across the country. The Daily Prophet was quick to criticize the ministry for the lack of coordination in dealing with the many murders, not to mention their continued failure to make any progress with the Jones case. Shop owners in Diagon Alley were struggling as business slowed with more witches and wizards choosing to stay home rather than venture out into the possible danger of the public. In addition to the general chaos in the MLE department, the situation got more complicated with the discovery of Lincoln Clamborough and his wife, Delinda, brutally murdered and left dead at their home. They were found left out on the front lawn of their house, the Dark Mark scorched across the grass, the bodies lying in the middle. It was a gruesome sight, and a dire warning. The Clamboroughs were a prominent couple, known widely for their work in the field of Charms. They were also one of the few incredibly successful and widely respected muggle-borns. The attack struck the Wizarding world to the core, saddening purebloods, half-bloods, and muggle-borns across England.

The true shame, however, was that while the news saddened the community, it did not shock them. A muggle-born and a half-blood; it was almost to be expected. Such were the state of affairs.

* * *

Albus sighed as he watched his four house Heads argue over the primary issue concerning Hogwarts today. For once, both Minerva and Severus were of one mind, but as with all major decisions concerning the students of Hogwarts, all four heads were required by ministry law to agree to implement any changes. This rule was implemented after the fiasco with Dolores Umbridge last year, which even the Minister eventually conceded was an unmitigated disaster. The removal of Dolores from Hogwarts and her demotion within the Ministry as well as the implementation of a new law that prevented any ministry interference with Hogwarts were the terms arranged between the Minister and the headmaster in exchange for the sworn oath that no student or professor at Hogwarts would take legal action against the Ministry or Umbridge herself, for her illegal actions and abuse of power. Minister Fudge was by no means pleased with the arrangement, but at least with this agreement, the issue would stay out of the public arena. Heaven forbid the public learn of his underhanded dealings. If nothing else, the new law ensured that nothing like what happened last year could happen again.

Unfortunately, the side effect of this new law was that all four house heads had to agree when implementing major changes. It was also required that if no majority amongst the four could be reached, the headmaster could not simply cast a vote to create majority, but would have to mediate and find a compromise. Restricting the headmaster's final vote was a condition put in place to appease the ministry and also minimize issues of favouritism. Thus far, there had been no real differences of opinion. However, with the discoveries of more bodies in London and the increased threat of Voldemort, letters had been flooding Hogwarts from worried parents. Most were writing to tell Albus to stop the visits to Hogsmeade as he did when Sirius had escaped from Askaban. It was this issue that had the four heads gathered in the headmaster's office.

"Trips to Hogsmeade will improve morale among the students. If we stop the visits we'll be giving in to the fear that You-Know-Who desires!" Minerva argued.

"But they're just _children_! We must protect them!" Pomona replied, equally emphatic.

"Of course we'll protect them; we can increase security."

"Even the ministry is having trouble dealing with the widespread kidnappings," Filius pointed out calmly.

"True, but all the more reason to try and maintain some normalcy. They are children, they should not have to be afraid of leaving the safety of Hogwarts. It's our duty to ensure they are given the right to simply _be _children," Albus said, entering the conversation for the first time since the arguing began.

"But Albus, the situation is different now, the attacks are happening more frequently and with no warning," Filius replied.

"Coddling them doesn't accomplish anything, Filius. The moment they leave Hogwarts, they will be on their own," Severus said coldly. He too had been mostly silent in the debate, it was a difficult topic for him to speak freely on, considering his delicate position as a double spy. Not that Filius or Pomona knew of his situation.

"Perhaps a compromise is best since none of you are likely to give way to one another," Albus said quickly as he saw an explosion of anger imminent from Filius and Pomona in response to Severus' dry statement.

"What do you propose, Albus?" Filius asked.

"If your concern is primarily for the younger students we can solve that problem by simply altering the rules a little," Albus started. He now had the complete attention of all four professors.

"I propose we restrict access to Hogsmeade to only fifth, sixth, and seventh year students. This way the older and better trained students will still have the privilege of Hogsmeade visits. With heightened security they should be safe."

Albus waited as they all processed and considered his proposition. It was a compromise that would hopefully appease them all.

"I believe that is a compromise I can agree to," Filius said slowly, putting forth his opinion first.

"That's acceptable to me," Minerva agreed. "Severus?"

"Fine by me," he said giving a short nod.

"Pomona, my dear, does this sound like a fair compromise to you?" Albus asked kindly.

"I still don't like it. But if all four of you believe it is enough, I can accept it," she said giving in. Accept it she may, but she certainly wasn't happy about it.

"Good, it's settled then!" Albus announced with a clap. "With that business out of the way, I suggest we all try and relax for the next few days before the students return and classes resume."

Minerva and Severus lingered behind, when Albus indicated wished for their continued presence. As the door to the office closed, the three remaining professors all relaxed with a near audible sigh.

"Thank goodness that has been dealt with," Minerva sighed, sinking tiredly into a chair. The stress from the recent killing spree was wearing on all of them, some more than others. There was nothing to be done but try and maintain normal routines and carry on.

"It's a troublesome situation to be sure," Albus said sadly. Another generation, another war. It was a sick cycle that he had seen repeat too many times over the course of his life. Each victory only giving peace for a few decades at most before another power-driven being attempts to take control, leaving the next generation to fight the battle again.

"Is there reason for concern about your position, Severus? Why were you kept in the dark about this?" Minerva asked worriedly.

"I don't believe he suspects anything. You know that he keeps me out of the raids due to my duties here and my other responsibilities," Severus replied.

"I do worry about the increase in his activity," Albus admitted to his two most trusted confidants.

"As do I, but we know he's been gaining in power over the last several months," Severus pointed out. "I think it's time we started our own retaliation tactics. No one is safe anymore it seems."

"There's not much we can do at this point," Albus said.

"If nothing else, we should protect the families of Order members," Minerva proposed.

"Heighten security for those at risk, certainly," Severus agreed. "It would also do us some good if we start making targeted attacks at his followers in the outer circles."

"We cannot simply murder them, Severus," Albus reasoned. "Increasing security should not be a problem... perhaps we should have a meeting soon to address these issues."

Getting up, Severus announced that he was expected for Hermione's lessons, and quickly took his leave.

There were so many thoughts whirling around in his mind. Despite what he told the headmaster and Minerva, he did worry about his position in the inner circle. It was unusual for him to be completely kept in the dark about such a major offensive attack. Perhaps it was time to meet up with Lucius again to fish around for some information. It was no secret though, that he had no interest in the kinds of horrendous activities that many of the other inner circle followers were so fond of. He should have expected something like this to happen, after all, Lucius never has a 'party' without having some entertainment for his guests. Still, to be completely unaware that an attack of that magnitude was being planned was a significant concern. There was no point voicing the issue to Minerva and Albus until he had a better idea of what was going on; besides if he told them, they would pester him into insanity. Well, Minerva would anyway.

Forcing himself to clear his mind, he paced before the door to the Room of Requirement before entering. He sat in one of the wingback chairs as he waited for his student to join him. He didn't need to wait long, five minutes later, the door opened.

* * *

She opened the door and had just barely stepped into the room when she felt the strong push of someone trying to enter her mind. Caught off guard she braced herself against the back of the door as she tried to push him out by sheer force of will. She managed to catch him and force him into a loop of meaningless memories as she gathered her strength. The suddenness of the attack weakened her significantly, and he broke out of her loop in a mere two seconds. Just as suddenly as the attack came, he withdrew from her mind. The abrupt withdrawal left her pushing without a target, tiring her further. She opened her eyes and sank down to the floor, exhausted and sweating.

"Always be prepared, never let your defences down," Severus lectured sounding every bit the stern professor. He remained in his seat, lounging comfortably, unaffected, as if he were simply relaxing rather than forcibly trying to break into someone's mind.

"Yes, Sir," Hermione replied dutifully from her spot on the ground. Sighing in frustration she let her head thud heavily against the wall. She _hated_ failure.

"You have quite a habit of sitting on the floor," he commented condescendingly.

"I happen to like the floor."

"Indeed. Luckily I do not care what you do and do not like. Come sit on the chair and we will continue the lesson."

"Yes, Sir," she pulled herself off the floor, and took a seat in the only other chair in the room.

"Practice keeping your Occlumency defences up during all waking hours. The holidays are the ideal time for this, when you don't have classes that will distract you."

Hermione nodded. The moment she met his eyes, he once again pushed into her mind without any warning. She recovered more quickly than the first time, but still had trouble placing her defences back together and pushing him out. Trying once again to force him into a loop while she gathered her strength, she was able to keep him in the loop for longer, but not long enough.

He pulled out again once he broke through the loop.

"Always be ready," he reprimanded severely.

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, I'll try harder."

"Again!"

This time, she was prepared, and after a few moments of struggle and exertion, she pushed him out.

"Good, again."

They continued like this for nearly forty minutes, until he called for a break to let her mind rest. Severus leaned back in his chair, watching her as she relaxed back into her seat, closing her eyes to relieve the headache that was certainly thrumming. Her breathing evened and the tension in her posture dissolved after a few minutes of silence.

"Miss Granger," Severus called quietly, not wanting to jolt her from her near sleep relaxation.

Breathing in deeply, she opened her eyes and straightened up, alert and ready again.

"Throwing me into a perpetual memory loop is a good tactic, it could use some practice and refinement, but I'm satisfied with your performance in that regard, for now."

"Thank you... but how are you able to break out of them so quickly and easily?" Her confusion and frustration were plain to see as she asked the question.

"I have been practicing Occlumency and Legilimency nearly as long as you have been alive; I don't expect you to be able to keep me in a simple loop. Remember, I am only alive because I am able to fool the Dark Lord, you needn't feel ashamed of being unable to withstand my attacks."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Hermione admitted. "Is there a way of blocking you even if you get out of the loop?"

"Yes, it's a good question... it tells me you are using your brain," Severus said approval evident in his tone. "When I break out, simply throw me back into another loop the same way you did the first time. That tactic will only be effective if the second loop differs from the first."

"It happens so fast, how do I catch you before you push straight through after breaking from the first loop?"

"Concentration," he said simply. "Follow the thread of my mind and capture me again. It is the same process, it simply requires greater concentration and speed."

"Right... so the second loop, can it have some of the same memories? Or do all of them have to be different for it to work?"

"They need not be different at all, as long as the sequence is changed. However, if the memories are different it will be a stronger defence, as it will take the invader more time to navigate," Severus explained. "Every memory has a certain feel, or character that is unique. As such, if the memories in the loop remain the same, the invader will be able to discover the loophole with greater ease, since the memories already have a familiar feel."

"So, it's like trying to put a puzzle together twice in a row... the second time you know where the pieces go?" Hermione asked, trying to understand the abstract concept he was teaching.

"Yes, I suppose you could make that analogy..." Severus agreed. "If we were to extend that analogy, the act of using new memories to form a second loop would be akin to giving you a different puzzle to do rather than have you repeat the same one. The pieces may be made of the same material, but the shape, the details, are different."

"Does that mean that the longer the loop, the more memories used, the harder the loop is to break?"

"Sometimes, but not always. A long loop of simple memories that contain little or no emotion will be just as easy whether there are four memories looped or fifty. It is the complexity of the memories used that affects the difficulty in breaking from the loop."

"I thought I was supposed to use harmless memories that have no meaning to me..." Hermione said, struggling to understand what sounded like a contradiction to her.

"Yes, I told you simply to use harmless memories, I did not, however, tell you the memories should be meaningless," Severus corrected. "Memories can be harmless to an intruder while also carrying significant meaning to you. For example, the first spell you casted successfully, would be a harmless memory, but it would also be significant and have great depth of emotion tied to it. It would be a complex memory due to the significance it holds to you in your idea of self."

"Right... Okay... so like the first time I saw Hogwarts?"

"Precisely," Severus replied, pleased that she understood the concept. "This is where it becomes more difficult to discern what is a safe memory and which would provide too much information to the invader."

"For example, if the memory you chose was of a time you were insulted because of your muggle parents, this would be a memory that gives away too much information."

"Why? Everyone knows I'm a muggle-born, it wouldn't be an unknown fact," Hermione reasoned.

"True, but remember, when a person is viewing your memories, they are literally _in_ them. They can feel every emotion, complex or shallow, and feel your own attachment to them. Understand and literally feel the importance you give to that memory."

"As a foreign intruder, that memory would tell me not only that you are a muggle-born, but that you are highly sensitive of that fact. That you feel the desire to prove your worth to purebloods and prove that you deserve to stand equal to them... it reveals much more about your personality, your attitude, ideals, and sense of self than you would have intended to allow the intruder to see."

He let the silence after his explanation linger to give the girl time to process the information.

"Do you understand?"

"I think so... you're saying that if the person viewing that memory sees how important it is, and how hurt I was, they would have ammunition against me that they wouldn't have had with a more meaningless memory like my memory of Hogwarts, right?"

"Yes, good. When you are practicing, try and collect memories, polish them by trying to concentrate on the primary emotions they contain. Focus on those emotions and link them together forming loops. Vary the types of emotions in each loop. Every emotion has a distinct manoeuvrability to it, the way the mind works through them is different. By having different types of emotions in the loop, it increases the strain on the intruding mind to steer through and map the loop."

Hermione jotted down the points quickly in a little notebook. She had taken to writing down the theory and concepts, even strategies of Occlumency so that she could reference them if need be. There was so much new and complex information, even Hermione had difficulty keeping it all straight let alone mastering it as a package. Every skill she had mastered enough to execute effectively and without error, she marked with a little check to keep track of her progress. For the sake of security, Professor Snape had confiscated the book when she first brought it, and coated it in numerous wards and charms to keep it safe from prying eyes. She didn't know half the spells or even potions he'd used, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that absolutely no one could break the spells and access the information contained in the little book. She wasn't sure if even Dumbledore would be able to crack it, so needless to say, she wasn't at all worried about the book getting into the wrong hands.

"Very well, I think we have strained your mind enough for today. Are you recovered enough to take up duelling again?"

"Yes, I am, thank you. Madame Pomfrey gave me a clean bill of health and said I could resume all activities," Hermione announced brightly. "She wasn't too happy about the last bit though," she added with a smirk.

"Naturally, as I have no doubt you will be seeing her again after today's lesson."

"Professor! Have some faith in me, I might have improved," Hermione objected.

"Unlikely in the extreme," Severus sneered. "If you are done nursing your pride, we can begin."

And so another two hours passed with Hermione exerting her physical strength, letting her mind rest as her body trained. The first fifty minutes were spent running drills, exercising and practicing manoeuvres, followed by twenty minutes of casting spells at stationary targets, practicing her aim.

The last fifty minutes were spent doing simulations, the scenery of choice, a forest. Rocks, trees, branches, leaves, even a small creek of running water, surrounded Hermione as she fought. The forest had challenges she had never even considered when she began. Her feet stumbled frequently over loose rocks, a hidden root or tree stump. Her arms scratched by thorns or sharp branches, left unheeded as she ran. Her reflexes slowed as she struggled to coordinate her movements. Strategy was abandoned after the first few minutes, as she tried to simply defend and minimize her own injuries as she ran, crouched, slid and even occasionally, hid from the near-stationary dummies as they attacked her. Sweat dripped from her forehead into her eyes, the salty sting blurring her vision. She didn't bother wiping it away as she fired two spells and hurriedly threw up a weak shield. Panting she caught her breadth, but before she could reinforce her ward, a blue streak ripped through her defence and hit her dead on. The force of the spell threw her back into the prickly brush behind her.

"Damn it!" Hermione cursed angrily. The room transformed back into the simple setting of a sitting room, barren save two plush armchairs.

"You lasted twenty six minutes this time... longer than your last attempt," Severus said from where he stood leaning against the back of one of the chairs.

"Barely," Hermione said, pausing to drink some much needed water for her parched throat. Her muscles were screaming, and blood streaks were smeared across her face, arms, legs and even her torso. Her t-shirt was torn along the side, probably from one of the many branches she broke through.

"I expect you to last thirty minutes next time," Severus continued, as if he hadn't heard her. "Next time, think before you act. You wasted too much energy running when you should have simply conjured a diversion to escape."

"Be creative, use your knowledge to fight. Think, don't just react. If I wanted impulsive action I would be talking to those idiots you call friends," Severus sneered.

"Yes, sir," Hermione said quietly, knowing what he said was true. She wasn't fighting with intent. She was just reacting and deflecting; running from the attacks, not confronting them.

"Focus on one action at a time. If you try and attack, defend, run, navigate and predict all at once you will simply fail. Those skills come with practice," Severus lectured. "When you put up a shield, assess your surroundings, locate good exit points and conversely, openings that will leave you vulnerable. Choose a course of action and follow through without hesitation. Then distract or eliminate the attacker and continue. Repeat the sequence, as needed. If you find yourself in an advantageous position, use the time and energy you have to eliminate as many targets as possible."

"The first and most important thing to remember is to conserve your energy. If you expend all your energy early on, you will be dead in a matter of minutes. Use your mind; strategize, evaluate. Don't simply blast every direction you see movement come from, you'll waste precious energy which you will need later on. Efficiency is the key to surviving a duel," Severus said, emphasizing the last point.

"The lesson for this session is efficiency, remember it."

"Yes, professor Snape," Hermione said.

"Good. That's all for today, go see Madame Pomfrey before you head back to your dormitory," he said dismissing her. "Remember to practice keeping your mental defences up and work on the memory loops for our next lesson."

"Okay, thanks professor, I'll see you at dinner," Hermione said with a tired smile. Leaving the room, she trudged her way to the infirmary for what seemed like the hundredth time since the holidays began.

After being filled up with pepper-up potion and a variety of other healing potions, Hermione was happy to be able to shower and remove the grime and dirt that covered her. The shower was longer than she had intended, but the warmth of the water and the way it soothed her sore muscles was too enticing to end early. With only an hour left until dinner, she opted for staying in the common room and passed the time by revising her charms essay that she had finished several days ago. It was already the second rewrite of the essay so she hoped it would still be satisfactory to her, as she was not inclined to rewrite it again.

* * *

Draco sat in a hidden alcove up on the astronomy tower. The sun had just set and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue. The New Year had been busier than he had expected, so he had not been able to get a moment alone until the next day. But this night he sat alone, savouring the peaceful silence, looking out over the grounds. As his eyes strayed over the garden patch, his mind turned towards thoughts of his mother. She had always loved her roses; the Malfoy garden was her sanctuary. Even now, thinking back, he knew that she was always happiest in the garden; most beautiful then too. His eyes welled at the thought of her, but even alone, he could not allow himself to cry. It wasn't the Malfoy way. At least, that is what his father always insisted. Clearing his throat, he forced his mind away from thoughts of his father, lest he dwell on the night of his mother's death.

Draco sat back comfortably against the wall, his sketchbook perched against his legs. It wasn't for the scenery that he chose his location; rather, it was for the peace of mind it afforded him. It was freedom, to him; away from house loyalties, and family expectations; a neutral space away from his unfortunate reality. Picking up the picture frame beside him, he looked at the image with the critical eye of an artist. A thin bar of black charcoal rested lightly in his hand, as he guided the tool across the textured page. A few strokes and a visage was already distinguishable. There was a unique beauty in sketching with charcoal. So much could be portrayed. The varying shades of grey to black, were a haunting allusion to his life. Art was a wonder; the ugly could be made beautiful, the stark could blossom to life, and perhaps the most poignant for Draco, how it was not the strokes that created a true work of art, but the spaces between. How a white space between the grey lead could give such life and grace to an image.

Always the least appreciated is what is most greatly missed when gone.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review, please. :)_


	22. The Magic of Magic

_Hey all!_

_Okay, so that wasn't as speedy of an update as I had planned. But in my defence, it's been crazy busy, classes started and suddenly time disappeared! Anyway, I won't make any promises about the next update, but I really, REALLY, hope I can get another chapter up before Christmas *fingers crossed*_

_Many thanks to reviewers! Reviews make me happy, which makes me want to write more, so really, if you want another chapter soon, it's in your best interest to review :p Okay, enough blackmailing for me lol  
_

_Well, that's all from me for now, enjoy!_

_-DeceptiveFates  
_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

* * *

Chapter 22 – The Magic of Magic

The next morning Hermione went on her usual jog, still remembering to stay well away from the forbidden forest, lest professor Snape catch her again. It had been a while since she had jogged outside in the morning; her latest reopening of wounds had kept her from her usual routine. The only thing she really missed with her jogs at Hogwarts was her ipod; running just wasn't the same without her music. The muggle world really did have so many wonderful things to offer, if only there was a way to integrate the two worlds seamlessly. Sometimes it felt like she had nothing left in the muggle world. That there was nothing that magic couldn't do. Yet, at the times when she least expected it, she longed for the small and seemingly insignificant things from the muggle world.

As she jogged toward the black lake, she saw a figure standing along the shore. Slowing as she approached, it soon became obvious that the figure was none other than, Draco Malfoy. That blond hair was too distinctive to be confused with another.

"You're out here early," Hermione called a bit breathlessly as she walked toward him.

Draco turned, startled by the sudden voice. He relaxed, allowing the tension to leave his shoulders when he saw who it was.

"Do you always jog in the morning?" He asked, ignoring her earlier comment.

"Usually, yes."

"Why in the morning?"

"It's beautiful in the morning... the air feels cleaner... the land looks untouched and pure. It calms me," Hermione said, with a slight smile.

"You're different now," Draco said suddenly, surprised by his own revelation.

Hermione turned her head and looked at him, trying to determine his motive, if he had one, that is. Scrutinizing his face for signs of mockery, she let her eyes bore into him, daring him to rescind the comment. Then, like nothing had happened she turned back to the lake, relaxing her tense posture once more.

Just when Draco thought she was going to ignore the comment, she said something that truly caught him by surprise.

"So are you."

It wasn't an accusation, a judgement, or even a challenge. It was a simple fact. And that caught him off guard. He knew was not the same as before, that fact was something he was already aware of. Then why did her pointing it out startle him? Something about the unassuming way she had said it, struck him down to the core. Looking over at Hermione he wondered what it was about her that prompted him to let his guard down. He relaxed in her presence without even thinking about it. It confused him. The innate knowledge that she could be trusted washed over him in a sudden wave of realization.

"Why do you come out here in the morning?" Hermione asked, pulling Draco from his thoughts with her sudden question.

Looking at her still staring serenely across the lake, he considered her question. She remained silent, giving him time to decide if he wanted to answer her or not. She smiled slightly as the Giant Squid popped above the water to look curiously at them before sinking back into the inky depths of the lake.

"To think," Draco said simply; then after a moment of silence continued. "It's peaceful in the morning. My mind's so cluttered, this place gives me the time I need to breathe and consider my options." Realizing after the fact, that he had revealed much more than he intended, he hoped she would not question him further on the subject.

"Thinking is exactly what I _don't _come here to do," Hermione commented. "To each, their own... well, I'm going to head back, see ya at breakfast."

"Later."

Hermione jogged back to the castle. She'd been talking to Malfoy longer than she thought, so she rushed her shower, and hurried down to the Great Hall. Five minutes later and she would have been late. Feeling fresh, and relaxed, Hermione greeted her professors as she took her seat.

When the mail came, Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see not one, but three envelopes arriving for her.

"Thanks Hedwig," she said smiling. She broke off a piece of bread, offering it to the white owl. It hooted its thanks, allowing Hermione to pet her before she took off.

"From Mister Potter, I assume?" the headmaster asked kindly.

"Yes, Ginny too, and... my father!" Hermione replied softly with surprise. She hadn't expected a letter from him so soon. She had written to him on New Year's day, wishing him and had even sent a picture of herself in her gown from the ball.

Hermione hurried through breakfast, eager to get out of the hall to read her letters. Rather than return to the common room, Hermione made her way to the Room of Requirement for some solitude. The room morphed into a comfortable library with plush couches that just begged her to go curl up on.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I can't tell you how happy I was to receive your letter the other day. Thank you for the picture you sent. I haven't let it out of my sight since I received it. You look so beautiful darling, just as beautiful as your mother. I'm sorry I haven't been much of a father to you these past few months. I know you must be struggling even more than I am, but I don't know how to help you. I miss you so much sweetheart; the house feels so empty. I'm ashamed to say I rang in the New Year with a bottle of vodka, but I promise you, I will be here waiting for you when you come home for the holidays. Have you been lonely at school by yourself over the holidays? Are you recovering well? _

_As for me, I've been trying to keep busy with the practice. I'm looking into hiring another dentist to work out of the office, without your mother here, I'm having a hard time covering all the patients. It does keep my mind occupied though. Your aunt Linda and uncle Ray are planning to come stay with me for a few days in February. The family sends their love, I saw them for Christmas dinner. _

_Well, I'm sure you have much better things to do than listen to me babble to you. I know it must be hard, but do try and savour the good things in life. I know it may not seem like there is any good in the world, but please try. _

_I miss you, sweetheart, take care._

_Love,_

_Father_

Hermione re-read the letter four times. With each reading she cried more, eventually setting the letter down and curling up even more, cried. She missed her father as much as he missed her. She hated thinking of her dad all alone in the house that was once so full of love. She missed her family.

After calming down, Hermione took out the other two letters, hoping they would cheer her up, even just a little.

_Hey Mione!_

_Are you shocked to get this? You must be, you didn't even have to bug us to write to you. How're things at Hogwarts? Hope you haven't been too lonely. We all miss you here, it's just not the same without you. Actually, yesterday I(Harry), really wished I was there with you, rather than here at the Burrow. The twins snuck a dissolving pill into my pumpkin juice, and I'm sure you pity me already without even knowing what the pill did. Ron's poking me telling me to say what it did... I'd rather not though, ouch, okay I guess I have to tell you, it temporarily made me bald. I look like an alien or some other science fiction creature. Promise to hex Ron for me when we get back? But don't worry, the twins said my hair *should* grow back in two days. They better be right!_

_Anyway, enough of my complaining. We hope you had quite a feast there at Hogwarts, because we certainly did here. Even Ron said he couldn't eat anymore by the end of the meal. Bill and Charlie are here, but they will be leaving in a few days. They said to say hello and wish you a Merry Christmas and happy New Year. In other news, Arthur somehow managed to get his hands on a mp3 player... I'm sure you can imagine how tricky that was to explain! Hopefully next time you come by the Burrow you can try and explain it... you've always been better at that. I have no shame in admitting, I already committed you to the task (please don't hex me!)._

_Hi Mione, it's Ron, I finally got a hold of the quill from Harry. I swear he's getting more chatty these days. Ha! I wish you were here so you could see Harry bald! It was brilliant! I'm just happy it was him and not me. It's too bad you weren't here, you would've loved to hear some of Bill's stories, Charlie's too. _

_Anyway, we hope you're doing well over there, and not too lonely. Can't wait to see you when we get back, we miss you!_

_The family sends their love, and so do we!_

_Harry and Ron_

Hermione laughed, smiled and cried as she read the long letter from her two boys. It was a surprisingly long letter, considering how much the boys hated writing letters. Suddenly, she felt like her heart longed to be there with them; surrounded by loving family, having an ordinary Christmas and New Year. But as much as she wished it, she knew that even if she were there, she would not be able to enjoy it like normal. And worse, her low spirits would ruin their holiday, even if they wouldn't admit it. Putting that letter aside also, Hermione opened the last one; Ginny's.

_Hermione!_

_I wish you were here! How could you abandon me to a house full of boys? Really, I can't count the number of times I've already wished you were here, just so you could save me from this madness. You'd better not be having too much fun at Hogwarts alone without me! I bet you love that the library and the dorm are empty. I don't blame you for wanting to escape the chaos at the Burrow, even I wouldn't mind a nice quiet day in the library without having to worry about the stupid pranks and annoying antics of my many MANY brothers. Mum said that Dumbledore held a small ball for New Years, I hope you had a chance to wear the new clips I got you. I wish I could have been there with you; even you have to admit a girls night would be fun. If you're wondering, I decided to write my own letter so I wouldn't have the boys looking over my shoulder. Are you doing all right? I hope you got all the letters, we sent Hedwig to your dad to see if he wanted to write you. I'm almost positive he did, but we thought he might have trouble sending it without an owl._

_I don't remember if I thanked you earlier for your amazing gift. I absolutely loved the shawl, it was perfect! I'm even wearing it now as I write. The boys make fun of me for it (they say only old ladies wear shawls... but what do they know?) but don't worry, I don't pay any attention to them. A shawl is always a good accessory for all ages. I tried to explain it, but I don't think they cared to understand, you know how they are. _

_So the real reason I'm writing my own letter without showing the boys is that I have to smuggle something into Hogwarts without those two getting their hands in it. You've probably already guessed, but yes, Mum made Christmas cookies and she packed a special box just for you. The real trick is getting it from home to Hogwarts without the boys finding out and eating them all. Don't worry, I'll guard it with every hex I can think of! _

_Well, if you were the boys, I'd tell you to dream of those cookies until we come back, but knowing you, you'd be happier if I brought you a book. Anyway, I hope you're doing well._

_I miss you! We all do, but I think I miss you the most. Don't tell the boys I said so haha!_

_Love,_

_Ginny_

Sighing happily, Hermione carefully folded the notes a small smile still lingering on her face. She really did have wonderful friends. Even Ron, who was usually the most oblivious among them, had managed to be thoughtful and sweet. Sometimes he surprised her with his depth of understanding... rare though those times may be.

With lifted spirits Hermione left the room deciding to go on a walk to freshen up. Days of studying, reading, training, and lying in a hospital bed made her eager to simply walk the empty hallways of Hogwarts. Hermione let her feet guide her, wandering up and down stairs, across corridors, and even peeking into the occasional room, simply to take a look. Despite living in the castle for five and a half years, there was still so much of the magnificent building left unknown to her. Little corridors, hidden alcoves, rooms, and countless portraits she had never encountered before.

As she strolled down the fourth floor, she passed a suit of armour talking to a witch in a painting. When she approached the end of the hall it suddenly occurred to her how much she had become used to magic. The sight of a suit of armour moving at all should have been amazing, let alone the fact that it was conversing with a painting. It amused her sometimes, and smiling, she thought of telling Leigh about the incident. However, just as quickly as the thought came, the realization that she couldn't struck her with near staggering force. Her mood crashed down, as she realized that there would be countless things that her sister would have loved but could never see. Sharing those funny stories and giving her sister a glimpse into the world of magic was one of the things she loved most about the holidays. She loved the wonder and amazement she would see in Leigh's face... a sense of wonder she no longer felt after years of magic being the norm.

As she allowed her thoughts to consume her, her feet continued to travel the halls of the castle. A faint glow at the corner of her eye pulled her mind back to reality. It took her a moment to register why the glow felt familiar.

She had found it.

Hermione quickly forgot whatever it was she was thinking before; her senses sharpening as her mind rapidly processed the hall before her. It was the same eerie glow that beckoned her, the way the smell of fresh cookies drew her to the kitchen at Christmas. In the back of her mind, she knew she should take in every detail so she could come back, but despite her best efforts, her mind did not register any thought other than that of the desire to continue forward. She had enough awareness to deliberately trace the patterns on the walls. Hermione watched in wonder as the vibrant green substance seeped in from the wall itself, filling the grooves of the etchings.

Remembering that the room appeared on the right side of the hall, Hermione kept an eye out for it while taking the time to observe the left wall. She had expected to see the green glow come from that wall as well, but was instead faced with something entirely different. She stopped short and turned to look closely at the wall. Instinctively, she hung back closer to the wall she was familiar with, as if afraid to approach the opposing wall. Her eyes flitted back and forth along the stones, trying to understand what she saw.

They were words.

At least, she thought they were words. It was a strange script, unlike anything she had ever seen before; wispy and flowing like calligraphy but without the smooth flourish of ancient text, almost like a hybrid of two languages. Unlike the other side of the hall, this wall had a rough quality. The etchings had an unfinished look, as though the creator had hastily scrawled the words, not caring for its appearance. The wall glowed, much as the rest of the hall did, but the engravings were dark, half shrouded despite the glow from the walls.

Hermione had the good sense not to touch the script on the opposing wall, and in fact, stayed well away from the wall completely as she continued down the hall. In her nervous discomfort, she kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she wandered forward. Slowly, her apprehension lessened, and almost unknowingly, she allowed her hand to trail along the patterns on the right-side wall again. Just as before, the green liquid followed her fingertips, the viscous ooze glowing dimly. Her attention was fixed on the script to her left as she walked.

"Ouch!" she yelped surprised. She stared at the wall in front of her in confusion. It was a corner. The wall ended, which was something Hermione certainly didn't expect. Where did the room go? The last time she was here, the room appeared on the right side wall in what appeared to be the middle of the hallway. She distinctly remembered the hallway wall continuing out of sight on the other side of the waterfall-doorway. So, how in the name of Merlin did she reach a corner? Still confused, she looked behind her, the way she came, but the hall stretched on farther than she could see. Now, Hermione was really startled. The blue glow that was so alluring before suddenly felt dark and threatening. Fear began to creep in as she realized that she may have underestimated the magic of the hallway. Perhaps this hallway was more powerful than she had first assumed. Professor Snape's warnings rang loudly through her mind, accentuating and heightening her fear. All she could think, was how stupid she had been... no, reckless. He had _warned _her. Repeatedly. She should have known better! Magic was _never_ as innocent as it appeared.

She started walking back the way she had come, towards what she believed to be the entrance. Her eyes fluttered from side to side, the strange words on the one side, and the eerie blue-green glow on the other. Looking back down the hall it seemed impossibly long. With each step, her anxiety increased a notch. Her mind was racing. So fast she couldn't even keep track of her own thoughts. As if in agreement with her mind, her footsteps quickened, and before she knew it, she was running down the hall, desperate to get out. In her fear, she felt trapped. Tears streaked down her face unbidden. She felt the same terror now that she had felt when being held captive. That feeling of being unable to escape; the unfamiliar surroundings... it was terrifying in its familiarity. What had previously felt exciting and tempting about the hall, now felt sinister.

Hermione continued to run, desperately, unseeingly; tears blurred her vision. But she didn't care, all she knew was that she couldn't stop running; adrenaline of the worst kind was fuelling her now.

She thumped into someone, rather roughly. She had been running full pelt down the hallway, and in some distant corner of her mind, she vaguely registered surprise at not bowling the person over and taking herself with them.

A very shocked, and frankly confused, professor Snape caught the girl as she slumped against him and somehow managed to stay standing despite the speed with which she came at him. His arms wrapped around her instinctively to keep her from sliding to the ground, as she continued to cry hysterically. Startled and still confused, Severus tried awkwardly to detach her from his person. She refused to release him, and with each attempt to dislodge her, she held tighter.

_Just bloody perfect. _

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Leave a review please. :)  
_


	23. Benevolent Masters

_Hi all!_

_I liiiive! To any of you out there that are still following this story, THANK YOU, for your patience! I can't promise to update a lot, but I have started writing again, so I hope I can keep the chapters coming! To any new readers, I hope you enjoy this fic and the chapters to come. _

_Please, bear with me, I'm a University student who will soon be starting a masters degree, so I'll be crazy busy, but I hope to make time for this fic! _

_Anyway, this chapter is a bit of a mellow one, but I promise there are more exciting things to come! Hope you all enjoy this latest instalment, and let me know what you all think!_

_-DF_

* * *

Chapter 23 – Benevolent Masters

Severus rolled his eyes in annoyance. Well, perhaps not _complete_ annoyance. He was uncomfortably conscious of the fact that worry was slipping into his mind at the sight of the girl sobbing hysterically in his arms. After much struggling, he managed to manoeuvre her into his office and into a chair. Unfortunately, despite his efforts, she still refused to unhand him.

Sighing in exasperation, Severus gave up and crouched in front of her hoping to coax her into calmness or at least into releasing him. Several minutes later after much hiccupping, sniffling, and countless more tears, she finally calmed enough for him to speak to her properly. He quickly moved back toward his desk and out of arms reach.

"Have you quite finished crying, Miss Granger?" he asked raising an eyebrow and fixing her with an exasperated glare.

"Yes sir, sorry, sir," Hermione replied softly, a few tears still tracing their way down her face.

"Good," he said curtly.

"Now, tell me what the bloody hell happened to put you in such a state," he ordered.

"I... I... don't really know, sir," Hermione stuttered, her brain finally catching up. Her eyes flickered to his face and then around the room – she was confused.

"That's hardly helpful," Severus drawled darkly.

"I know... I just don't really know what happened..."

A few minutes passed in silence. Hermione's mind worked furiously to put together her frazzled thoughts into some semblance of order. She hated feeling out of control, even more so now after all that had happened. Control meant safety. Closing her eyes she shuddered, fear was still lingering around the edges of her awareness. Little did she know that Severus was closely observing her and took note of her every reaction, no matter how small. To say he was disturbed by her actions was an understatement.

"I wanted to relax... unwind... so I started walking around the castle," Hermione started quietly.

"There's so much of the castle that's been unexplored, and when it's quiet and empty like this, it's just... different... peaceful. It's like a harmless adventure. Every door is like opening into a new and unknown world. In my head anyway."

Severus sat back against the edge of his desk, listening intently to the girl talk. It didn't even seem like she was talking to him. But he listened; he didn't dare interrupt her.

"I remember thinking about telling Leigh something, and the next thing I knew, I had found the corridor." Now, she looked at him, tears shimmering in her eyes but sharp with awareness.

"I knew I should come to you, but I was so curious and I was afraid if I left I wouldn't be able to find it again!" Hermione said anxiously.

Severus nodded for her to continue.

"I remembered what the hallway looked like from before, but only really the right side. So, I trailed my hands along the wall and watched the patterns glow, and I looked to the left to see if it was the same."

"And was it?"

"No," she said softly. "It was like something I'd never seen... there was a strange script etched into the wall..."

"Did you touch it?" he asked urgently. When she didn't answer, he leaned forward, grabbing her by the shoulders, "Granger! Did. You. Touch. It?"

Startled, she looked up at him with wide eyes. "No... no, of course not... I know better."

"Good," he sighed, relaxing his grip on her. He gave her shoulders a brief, reassuring squeeze before removing himself back to his previous position at his desk.

"But I was so focussed on the writings, I didn't notice how far along the corridor I had come... I walked to the _end,_ sir."

"What of the room you saw last time?"

"That's just it... my hand was trailing the wall the _entire time_. There's no way I could have missed the room."

After a few moments of silence, she spoke again. "There's something dark about that place. I felt... caged... and something about the hall terrified me." Her eyes looked pleadingly at him, as if begging him to understand her fear.

"I do not believe that your fear in that corridor is... irrational, per se," Severus said carefully.

"I haven't felt that afraid since..." she trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. He knew exactly when she had last felt that kind of fear.

She lapsed into silence. Severus looked at her thoughtfully, trying to understand what could have caused such a reaction from her. _What was it about that corridor that intrigued and scared her?_

"I don't understand," she muttered quietly to herself. "It felt so safe last time, and, well, magical."

"Not all that is magical is safe, and not all that appears safe is good magic," Severus reminded her.

"Yes, I know that, but... I can't put my finger on it... but there is _something_ about that place."

"Perhaps another foray into the pensieve is called for," Severus suggested, not wanting to demand the invasion of her privacy.

"Yes, yes I suppose you should see this."

"Well?" Hermione asked anxiously, searching his face for any clue as to what he was thinking.

"I'm not crazy," she stated bluntly. "Am I?"

Severus reclined in one of the wingback chairs in his sitting room, brow furrowed in thought. It was strange to be sure, and he certainly didn't have an explanation for what he had seen. The script was unknown to him, but had a vague familiarity that he could not place; as if he had seen some variation of it someplace.

Finally he lifted his eyes and observed the apprehensive girl sitting across from him. He idly noted the way her thumb rubbed her forefinger, as if to remove an ink stain – clearly a nervous habit.

"It was certainly strange," he said cautiously.

She waited for him to elaborate. "That's it? Surely you have something else to say about it... don't you... sir?" she added as an afterthought.

"I cannot speak for whether your fear was justified or not, nor do I recognize the script."

"Right," Hermione said slumping back into her chair slightly. "Of course, I'm not sure what I expected for you to say," she admitted.

"Likely for me to appease your ego and reaffirm your sanity," he drawled dryly, eyebrow raised mockingly.

"I am quite assured of my sanity, thank you," Hermione replied with a glare.

"As you say..."

After a bout of silence she spoke up again.

"I don't know what draws me there, or why it only appears under certain circumstances, there's just something strange about all this."

"I agree."

"Tell me again about your first trip down this corridor," Severus commanded.

"I- well, I found it when I was wandering. I was caught up in other thoughts... thoughts about my sister..." she fell silent, as though her mind was struggling to escape that line of thought.

Severus waited patiently. He knew the kind of emotions that swirled within her enough to understand that she needed time to collect herself.

"I was touching the walls, they had strange patterns engraved, and I found the waterfall. I think it was about halfway down the hall. Then I walked through the waterfall into that large room."

Suddenly she had a thought. "Sir! You don't think it functions something like how the Room of Requirement works, do you?"

Severus started at this. He had not considered it in such a manner. However, he quickly saw many flaws in the theory, first of which being that the hallway did not appear in the same location and there appeared no pattern that resulted in its appearance.

"I do not believe that to be the case, but I admit, it warrants some further investigation."

Sighing, she slumped down in the chair, leaning forward and letting her head fall into her lap. She was exhausted, mentally, emotionally, and physically. More than anything, she craved the feeling of safety.

Severus paid her no heed as he continued to mull over the new information she had provided. If anything, he was more interested than before in finding this corridor himself. Perhaps he ought to spend more time wandering the dungeon corridors himself. Or better yet, bring the girl with him, as she had found the corridor not once, but twice. It was an idea worth considering, at the very least.

* * *

Severus was not usually summoned before 9:00 PM during the school year due to his position, but with the holidays, no such restrictions applied. This was what found him standing before the Dark Lord at 4:00 in the afternoon in a comfortable but sparse sitting room. He neither knelt nor bowed his head, but looked at the Dark Lord directly, as was custom with personal meetings.

"Tell me, Severus, what does Dumbledore do for the holidays," the Dark Lord asked casually.

"Nothing of interest, my lord, he dodders around being annoyingly cheerful," Severus replied in a carefully bland manner.

"Indeed, that does not surprise me, the old man is getting more senile by the day."

"Quite so, my lord," Severus replied respectfully.

"What of the Malfoy boy? What training have you given him thus far?"

"I'm afraid nothing that will please you yet, my lord. I have the boy working on basic potions and healing salves to properly evaluate his skills before I can devise a list of potions that he would be well suited to work on. Ones that would be of use to you, my lord."

"I sent the boy to you to teach him the dark arts of potions, not coddle the boy with useless healing potions, why do you defy me?" The Dark Lord snarled.

"I dare not defy you, my Lord, I must determine his skill level and his natural strengths before delving into darker potions. Potions is a delicate art, as you know, my Lord, I wish to best utilize his skills by choosing the right potions. I am already working on a list of suitable potions for the boy to work on."

"Very well, you have served me well thus far, I shall be lenient with you today, Severus. I shall allow you one week to set him to work. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes my Lord, you are most gracious," Severus said, bowing low to show deference and gratitude to his master.

"Go, I have other things to attend to," the Dark Lord said standing abruptly from his chair. Without another word, he strode out of the room, leaving Severus alone to return to Hogwarts.

Without any hesitation, Severus apparated out and back to the safety of the castle. Somehow he had managed to escape his meeting with the Dark Lord with unscathed. He had been in a remarkably benevolent mood. He could only hope his luck would hold up next time.

* * *

_12 Grimmauld Place_

Due to the Order meeting that day, the entire Weasley family, Harry included, made the move from the Burrow to Headquarters. It was a permanent move since the increasing attacks made safety a greater problem. While the Burrow was safe, it didn't have the extra security that Grimmauld Place provided, especially since the house was now legally under Harry's name. Unfortunately, the younger Weasleys and Harry were not permitted into the kitchen for the meeting itself, but were left to amuse themselves in the sitting room like children. It grated their nerves, Harry's most of all, to be left out of what directly concerned them. At the end of the day, Harry was the one who would have to face off with Voldemort, and there was no doubt in his mind that Ron and Hermione would be with him right by his side. Apparently that argument didn't hold water with Dumbledore, though, as they were still left out of the loop.

Harry preferred staying at the Burrow to being here, though, despite the added protection. The house still haunted him with memories of Sirius and the guilt over his death resurged with even greater ferocity although so much time had already passed. But each room lingered with the presence of his godfather, and with that presence, the unshakable fact that Harry had caused his death, however inadvertently. Even then, Hermione, the voice of reason had tried to keep him from going, if only he had listened. He learned a terrible lesson from that night, and never again would he allow his impulses to drive him. To her credit, Hermione had never once in any way alluded to the fact that she had warned him that it was a trap. No, that would be too spiteful for Hermione to do, even if she felt it. Or perhaps her own catastrophe happened so soon after that she hadn't a chance to think it.

In the span of a few months he felt that he had lost the two people he was closest too. Hermione may be well and alive, but she wasn't the same. In many ways she had died in that cell along with her family. This new Hermione, closed to the world and reserved was a mere shadow of who she had been before. Harry was not ungrateful, though; he thanked the heavens above that she was rescued alive. Not to criticise, but everyone was so focussed on helping Hermione, that none of the Order members thought to check how Harry and Ron were dealing with Hermione's ordeal. She was their best friend, their sister, yet no one seemed to notice just how deeply it affected them.

So many nights, Harry and Ron discussed the Hermione-issue, as they dubbed it. Ron was just as affected as Harry. He had told him about his encounter with Hermione outside the common room that day before the holidays, and to say Harry was shocked would be an understatement. Hermione, for all that she fought with Ron, cared deeply for him, that much Harry knew. For her to lash out at him so violently was disturbing. But they both coped and tried to do as much for Hermione as they could, each in their own way. If anything, they decided that normalcy was the best for her. She was never the type to take to coddling, and even less so now after the incident.

In the kitchen, the discussions were somber. The core of the Order sat around the table, with Severus standing in the shadows by the door.

"Things in the Ministry are getting more chaotic by the day, Albus, I'm not sure how much more strain the MLE can take," Kingsley reported.

"You're telling me!" Tonks exclaimed. "I'm being pulled between four cases right now and the higher ups keep demanding answers we don't have to give! And I found out just yesterday that they're assigning me to another case, as a muggle liaison. I don't know when they expect me to eat or sleep!"

"Tonks is right, the MLE is stretched thin and we can hardly keep up with all the new cases and there don't seem to be many answers. We don't even know where to look, due to the lack of evidence," Kingsley agreed.

"Perhaps the Order can lend a hand?" Emmeline Vance, suggested. "We certainly have some manpower to spare."

"A worthy suggestion, Emmeline, though I would rather the Order did not become involved at this time," Albus said sadly. "It would be too great a risk for us and the cause."

"Then what do you expect us to do, Albus? We're just sitting here twiddling our thumbs like a bunch of spineless fools while those Death Eater scum are wreaking havoc," Alastor growled.

"We are neither spineless nor sitting idly, Alastor," Albus said mildly.

"Then what _are_ we doing, Headmaster?" Sturgis asked.

"We are biding our time to act when it will best suit the cause. Patience in war is a critical as action."

"What the devil are you waiting for, Albus? For Riddle to run around shaking his fist saying 'come fight me you cowards'?" Alastor exclaimed.

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that, Alastor, but more or less."

"I believe, now is when we should quietly begin making our own offensive attacks," Severus said quietly, his sharp voice breaking through the chatter.

"What kind of offensive attacks?" Molly asked worriedly.

"The kind where we target the weak links in the Dark Lord's outer circle to show that we can fight back, the kind where after a few hits, I can report knowledge and further secure my position and the will of the Order," Severus replied in a bored drawl.

"You are talking of murder, my boy," Albus noted.

"Yes, and this is a war, Albus. Death is a prerequisite," Severus replied caustically.

"I could not ask any to do such acts, Severus. That is the work of an assassin. An assassin whom we do not have," Albus said tiredly. He was getting too old for all this war business.

"Do any of you have the ability or will to do this for the Order?" Severus asked.

Silence followed his question. It was one thing to kill in the course of battle, but assassination was another game; a game which not many have the stomach for and even fewer still, have the ability.

"I'm afraid that's your answer, my boy," Albus said after a bout of silence.

"You complain that we do nothing, yet when a task is required, none of you have the stomach to carry through," Severus sneered in disdain. It was all good talk, but the dirty work was always left to him. This time, he could not afford to be the one to take the risk.

"Easy for you to say, Snape, you're a Death Eater, murder is as common as dinner for you lot," Alastor growled derisively.

"Now, Alastor, that is unnecessary," Albus said sternly. He knew too well the heavy burden Severus bore for the sake of the cause.

"How shall we deal with the Hermione situation, Albus? How is the poor child doing?" Molly asked, effectively changing the subject.

"I'm afraid Severus knows better than any of us," Albus replied.

"Severus? Why would he know?"

"Because I have been training her in both Occlumency and duelling these last months," Severus replied shortly.

"That's an awful lot to manage in addition to her schooling, especially with her recent tragedy, don't you think?" Remus said mildly.

"Only for the faint of heart, wolf, and Granger is anything but," Severus sneered.

"Surely you're pushing her too much, Severus?" Arthur worried.

"Hardly. The duelling training was her idea, and she isn't as fragile as you would all like to believe."

"Pr'fssor's right act'lly," Hagrid spoke up. "Our 'Ermione's been lookin' much better since she's been doin' all that trainin'."

"And how is this training coming?" Hestia Jones asked.

Albus stepped in at this point. "Exceedingly well, if Severus' comments are to be heeded. I believe she will soon become a valuable member to our organisation."

"Well, I believe we have exhausted our topics for today, and our Hogwarts contingent needs to get back to the school, so this meeting is officially adjourned," Albus declared, rising from his seat.

The others clamoured to get up and the kitchen slowly emptied as some retired to the sitting room to see the younger Weasleys and Harry and others returned to their duties and homes.

* * *

_Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts_

"This is the first I've heard you mention the route of assassination, Severus," Albus commented, his tone deceptively mild.

"You will remember, Albus, I mentioned it a few weeks earlier and you dismissed it," Severus countered.

"Indeed you did, Severus, and I still don't like it," Minerva said.

"You need not like it, but it is a necessity. This is a bloody _war_, Minerva, it's not meant to be nice and clean," Severus sneered.

"I suppose you are right," Minerva sighed. "Still, I cannot help be repulsed by it."

"As you should be, Minerva, it is vile, but a necessary evil," Severus conceded, remarkably understanding.

"Ah, I wondered something, Severus," Albus interjected suddenly. "I didn't think it appropriate to address at the meeting, but how is young Draco doing?"

Severus started slightly at the question. Albus never asked anything without reason, and his interest in Severus' godson was certainly not innocent.

"He is still confused. I believe he is leaning toward joining our side, but out of revulsion of the Dark Lord rather than belief in our cause," Severus said carefully.

"Excellent! Quite excellent!" Albus exclaimed. "I would hate for the boy to follow in his father's unfortunate footsteps."

"Quite." Severus replied shortly.

"Perhaps his fascination with Miss Granger has something to do with it," Minerva proposed.

"It is more a fledging friendship than fascination, but yes, Minerva, his interaction with Miss Granger has played a significant role, I believe," Severus said.

"Speaking of Miss Granger, how well is she progressing?" Albus asked.

"Her Occlumency is developing, she is naturally adapting to the concept. She has a basic proficiency for it, I believe with some practice and continued training she will become fairly proficient in the art," Severus replied. He felt her development in the subject warranted the open praise.

"Wonderful! It sounds promising, my boy," Albus said, clearly pleased. "And what of her duelling?"

"She progresses well enough, there too. The girl has a skill for spells but she struggles with the simulations. It's a work in progress," Severus said shortly.

"She's already moved on to simulations?" Minerva exclaimed in astonishment.

"Indeed, though her attackers are not yet fully moving, they are not stationary either."

"Interesting, indeed," Albus mused aloud. "Hermione is progressing much more quickly than I anticipated."

"I have a suggestion, if I may, Headmaster," Severus said cautiously.

"Of course, of course, what is it?"

"If her progress continues at the same rate, I believe by the end of the year she will have reached an intermediate level, at that time, I believe we should consider inducting her into the Order over the summer holidays."

"Induction… already?" Minerva said in surprise.

"I believe she will be ready and given her situation, she deserves to be included. She is certainly mature enough to handle the responsibility," Severus said.

"She may appear to be dealing with all of this well, but I do worry about her mental health," Minerva said.

Severus sighed. He had not wanted to discuss this with these two, but he felt he should address their concerns.

"I do not dispute that Granger is still having difficulty dealing with what happened during the summer, but I do believe she is handling it in a healthy manner. She has spoken to me on a few occasions and I know that she takes comfort from Potter. Her interaction with Draco also seems to be a source of happiness for her in addition to her training."

"And what advice have you given her?" Minerva asked.

"None… she does not want advice, she needs someone to listen, which is what I have done and will continue to do," Severus said blandly.

"Surely the girl needs someone to steer her in the right direction."

"Her direction is just fine, Minerva," Severus said rolling his eyes. "She needs someone who listens, not a preacher."

"Then, she is still healing, surely we should wait to induct her. Wait before adding the pressures of the Order," Minerva said concerned.

"The pressures of the Order are already upon her, upon them all, whether they are inducted or not! The sooner you all understand that the better. They are not normal children and we cannot protect them forever," Severus snarled.

"No, they are not ordinary children, but they _are_ still children… children we must protect as best we can," Albus interjected.

_Only the children you choose, Albus,_ Severus thought snidely.

"They are not children anymore, at least not the ones we are discussing. The war will not wait for Granger to heal, and she is far better protected within the fold of the Order than being left on the outskirts. Giving her a voice in the Order may be precisely what we need," Severus said patiently.

"Very well, we will table this discussion for now, Severus, and revisit it toward the end of term as we re-evaluate Hermione's progress at that time," Albus declared. It was a pointless discussion at this point, and he wanted some time to process the suggestion.

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	24. A Future of Uncertainty

_Hi all! _

_Okay, so this chapter took me a teensy bit longer to put up than I anticipated. Sorry, for the false I hope I gave you in my review responses! *ducks head in shame*_

_Anyway, I know the latest chapters have been a bit slow, but I promise things will get interesting again! Please note this chapter has NOT been beta-ed so I apologize for any mistakes, feel free to point them out to me if you catch them, though! Hope you enjoy this one!_

_-DF_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Chapter 24 – A Future of Uncertainty

The holidays were almost at an end, with just four days left before the other students returned. Draco wasn't sure if he wished for a longer holiday or a shorter one. At times the silence was stifling. The presence of other students was at the very least a distraction from the turmoil in his mind. Yet at other times, he couldn't bear the thought of having to put on his dutiful Death Eater-to-be, mask; having to watch his every word and action, to put on the Death Eater show. It was tiring, and worse, he felt little inclination to do so.

There still remained the problem of what to do about his situation regarding the Dark Lord. With only a few months until summer left, he had to come to a decision soon. He had to decide fast, especially if his decision took him away from the path of the Dark Lord. He would need time to prepare an alternate arrangement of some sort, protection or a means of fleeing the country. Furthermore, the situation with his godfather was baffling. The more he thought about it, the more confused he was. The fact that Severus would do anything for Draco was not hard for him to imagine. But what kind of game his godfather was playing was confusing; after all, the Dark Lord was impossible to cross, surely Severus wasn't deceiving him! It was unthinkable. The Dark Lord could not be fooled, even by a man as cunning and brilliant as Severus!

_No, there has to be something else, some other explanation,_ Draco thought.

"At this rate, we're going to have to make a schedule for this place," Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts. He looked over to see her leaning against the entry arch to the alcove.

"What are you doing here, Granger?"

"Same as you, I imagine. Looking for a quiet spot to think, is all," Hermione said casually as she pushed off from the wall to come toward the window.

"Right…." Draco said awkwardly.

"All right, Malfoy?" Hermione asked. He looked strained and despite their rough history, she felt a spark of worry for the pale Slytherin.

"What do you mean?" He asked defensively.

"You just seem… stressed, that's all," Hermione replied uncomfortably.

"Oh, uh, right… I mean, aren't we all, these days?" Draco asked, trying to deflect.

"Some more than others," Hermione agreed.

"Well, some have more reason than others," Draco countered.

"What troubles you today, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"Why does it concern you, Granger?"

"It doesn't… it's just that you seem like you could use someone to talk to."

Draco sighed. "Maybe you're right, if only it were that easy."

"Want another oath?" Hermione asked only half joking.

"No, I already know what you would tell me."

"Then it's a listening ear you need."

"True…."

"Are you offering?" Draco asked.

"Oh, uh… well, I guess," Hermione answered awkwardly.

"Never mind, it's not something I can discuss with you anyway," Draco said with a sigh.

Before Hermione could answer, he brushed past her and sauntered down the hall. Hermione looked after him thoughtfully. She wondered what could be bothering him so much that he would consider confiding in her of all people. Certainly, they had become friendly, but they were not friends per se.

Shaking her head, she looked out the window, allowing her thoughts to drift back to her own problems. She had enough of those without adding the burden her former enemy's problems too.

* * *

The Burrow was in a flurry of activity

Bill suddenly came for a visit and the house was in chaos. He had to leave shortly after Christmas, but returned just as suddenly without any notice. Molly was beyond happy and the Weasley children were equally thrilled. Bill was always a source of entertainment; there was never a shortage of fascinating stories from his travels abroad. Harry just liked having another member of his adoptive family around. Despite his excitement, the strange comings and goings of one of the most elusive Weasleys was concerning. In fact, throughout the holiday, Order members were appearing and disappearing somewhat erratically, but trying to pretend it was just business as usual. But the more he thought about it, the more Harry was sure that the situation with Voldemort had once again changed. There was too much activity for it to be anything otherwise. The attacks that were so shocking at the start of the holiday quickly became the norm, so much that they hardly flinched when a new account cropped up. The war was escalating and the occupants of the burrow were busy trying to pretend it was just a normal winter holiday. Unfortunately, Hermione's absence made it obvious it was far from ordinary, and the increased security and secrecy hardly helped maintain the image of normalcy. Harry felt the change more keenly now with both his godfather dead and Hermione being different, and to top it all off, his connection with Voldemort was less stable than ever with random pangs from his scar occurring intermittently every few days. He had yet to say anything to anyone. Usually, he would confess this kind of thing to Hermione, but she had enough to deal with without having to worry about him too. He could tell Ron, but he didn't want to ruin what little holiday spirit his best friend had with worries of Voldemort mucking about in his head.

The feeling of joy and freedom that the holidays always brought, even in previous years when things were tense, was noticeably missing this year. For once, Harry was almost relieved to be returning to Hogwarts in a few days. If nothing else, classes were a glorious distraction from the violent turn the war had taken in recent months… a distraction, which was missing during the holidays making the war a little too prominent in his mind than was comfortable. Not that he ever really forgot about what was happening outside Hogwarts grounds, but there was a feeling of distance that only really existed while living in Hogwarts. Here, with Order members coming and going in various states of exhaustion, the toll that the war was taking on everyone was starkly clear from the way Tonks' hair reverted to her natural brown unbidden to the frequent appearances from Kingsley Shackbolt. It didn't help that Molly was over-compensating for the stress and resorted to being extra cheerful when the "kids" were around. All in all, Harry wanted nothing more than for the holidays to be over and return to school.

* * *

_Hogwarts_

Hermione was scribbling furiously in her notebook, trying to devise a new plan for how to create a decent mental barrier. They had managed to work beyond the memory loops, but now she was struggling to create a good mental landscape in which to navigate the loops. It was a complex idea and one she was truly finding challenging. The level of Occlumency Snape was teaching her went beyond the superficial "get-out-of-my-head" approach, but was so much more fascinating and difficult than anything she had ever done before, and for that very reason, all the more exhilarating. She was safely ensconced in a cozy corner of the library that few even knew existed. Behind the rows of shelves and far from the tables meant for studious children, was a hidden alcove that opened up into what was essentially a small sitting room. There were four sturdy armchairs and a small window seat that overlooked the school grounds. She had found this particular spot last year when she was escaping the prying eyes of Umbridge, but had decided it was a secret spot for herself.

Hermione sighed as she pressed her head against the window in thought. She had been actively avoiding both her head of house and the Headmaster for much of the holidays, but they had managed to corner her earlier in the day for a "consultation" session, as they called it. Despite her best attempts, their questions and comments did make an impact and she felt her mind drifting back to their conversation. For once she actively wished Snape had been there. It was strange how much she relied on him these days, in fact, she often felt he was a welcome support during such conversations.

_I bet _he_ would have had a good answer for the Headmaster,_ Hermione mused.

Thinking back, Hermione realized that she probably gave all the wrong answers to Dumbledore's questions. When he asked her where she saw herself in 5 years, she could only answer that she hoped she would still be alive and the bloody war would be over. When he asked what type of profession she would like to pursue, all she could think to say was that there was no point pursuing any given profession as she would be fighting in the war alongside Harry. It was like for every question he asked about her future, her answer would always come back to the war. But there was also the practical aspect to his questions. Hermione really didn't have any idea of what she would do after she graduated. Even though she knew she would be fighting with Harry, she would still need a job of some sort, if nothing else, as a cover. This lead to his questioning which subjects she felt most partial to, and unfortunately, her answer was her private lessons. Her usual classes failed to capture her attention the way they used to, but the lessons she had with Snape were fascinating to the point of obsession. She loved the physical _and_ mental stimulation the lessons provided. But again, now that she thought about it, she did need to determine what subject she was interested in. Just when it seemed like her life had settled down again into something less confusing, these questions came up and forced her to make long term plans. Mainly, it was hard to care about her future in terms of a career when her entire life hinged on the outcome of the war and her role in it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone calling her.

_Who on earth is here looking for me? Maybe professor Snape? _Hermione thought confused. There weren't all that many people who addressed her as simply, "Granger".

Getting up and peeking out of her little den, she saw Malfoy poking about looking for her.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked, stepping out into the open.

"Where were you?" He asked, suspiciously. She practically materialized out of nowhere.

"Oh… um, there's just a small little place back here…." Hermione said, awkwardly. Then, as an after thought said, "just don't tell anyone, I don't think anyone else knows about this place."

"Right."

"You were looking for me?" Hermione prompted.

"Oh, uh, yeah… um… are you busy?"

"No, not really."

"Does your offer still stand?" Draco asked vaguely.

Hermione scrunched her nose and tilted her head to the side in confusion. "What offer?"

"From earlier… about listening," Draco said uncomfortably.

"Oh…." Hermione replied, surprised. "Of course!" She could hardly believe her ears. Draco Malfoy, Slytherin extraordinaire was _asking_ for help, actually seeking her out! Apparently, miracles do happen!

Hermione went back into the sitting room and reclaimed her seat by the window, allowing Draco to either sit in one of the chairs or pace as he was apparently, intending to do.

"This will be confidential?" He asked curtly.

"Naturally, but I can give you another oath if you so wish," Hermione offered kindly.

"No… no, I _think_ I can trust you…." Draco replied cautiously.

"Okay, then, I'll give you my word then, that nothing you say will leave this room."

"Right."

Draco continued to hover near the back of one of the chairs, struggling to determine how to start.

"I don't think I want to be a Death Eater," Draco suddenly blurted out. His eyes widened comically, as he realized what he had just said. He definitely had _not_ meant to start with that particular declaration.

Hermione nearly fell off her perch on the window seat by the force of her surprise.

"Did I hear that correctly, Malfoy?" Hermione asked uncertainly, shock rippling through her like a pulsing wave.

Malfoy tensed his jaw, looking around like a caged animal, but gave her a curt nod nonetheless.

"Wow… just wow, okay…." Hermione babbled, trying to process what he had just disclosed.

"Well?"

"I- I- are you sure?" Hermione asked uncertainly. What possible response could she give to such a statement!

"Yes, I'm bloody well sure," Draco snapped in annoyance.

"Okay, just making sure."

"It's not like I can just run around changing my mind about the subject all the time," Draco sneered. "I'm a bloody Malfoy, I'd be cursed on the spot."

"Yeah…."

"I am thoroughly and completely fucked aren't I?" He asked collapsing into the chair across from her. His posture sagged and he suddenly looked every bit like a confused and frightened teenager.

"Bloody hell… would it have killed you to warn me that you were going to shock me to death?" Hermione asked, unsure how to proceed.

"Well, it's not like I was _planning_ on starting with that."

"Christ… okay… okay…." Hermione babbled. "So, want to tell me how you decided you don't want to continue the family tradition?"

"Well, I didn't suddenly become a muggle-loving, saint like your precious Potter, if that's what you're asking."

"Malfoy," Hermione growled.

"Well, you know about my mother… so there's that…."

"Okay, makes sense."

"And then there's you."

"Me? What do you mean?" Hermione asked, confused.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. He hated showing his vulnerable side, especially to someone like Granger.

"I- well- that is, I think what happened to you is disgusting… horrifying…."

"I still can't get the image of you in the hospital wing the other night out of my head… gives me bloody nightmares," Draco continued with a shudder.

Hermione nodded in understanding. "You're not a violent person," Hermione said astutely.

"Not like that I'm not, Merlin, I didn't know!"

"Know what?"

"Just what they did to you. I mean I _knew_, but I didn't _really_ know," Draco explained vaguely.

"And just like that you decided being a Death Eater isn't for you?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"No… obviously not," Draco said rolling his eyes. "Bloody hell, Granger, this is my _life_ we're talking about. Just admitting that to anyone is like giving myself a death sentence."

"I know," Hermione said quietly.

They lapsed into silence. What was there to say? She didn't understand, though. She did, in that it was clear to her he was not the arrogant and cruel boy he used to be, but to be altered to this extent was truly shocking to her. Turning away from Voldemort was against his entire upbringing, pulling him away from everything he was to inherit, born to be, even!

"So what are your options?" Hermione asked, reverting back to her usual, practical self.

"Die by the hand of the Dark Lord, or die by the hand of Potter and company," Draco said blandly.

"That's not true… I mean really, what are you planning on doing?"

"I don't _know_!" Draco exclaimed. "I just know that I can't be a Death Eater and I have no idea what comes after that."

"You could fight for us," Hermione suggested quietly, aware that the prospect would not be terribly appealing to the blond Slytherin.

"Because your friends just looove me, don't they," he sneered in response.

"You don't have to like each other, you just have to be tolerant. They wouldn't turn you away," Hermione said sincerely.

"Why are you helping me, Granger?" He asked suddenly.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused by the sudden change in topic.

"Why do you listen, care, help… I'm the son of the man who destroyed you and your family."

"But you're not him," Hermione answered simply. "Haven't we been through this already?"

"Yeah… but still… he's my father."

"And we both hate him. End of story, right?"

"… yeah, I guess it is, isn't it?" He said quietly.

"Would you vouch for me?" He asked unsurely. It was almost cruel to ask her of all people to help him, but he couldn't help but trust her now.

Hermione looked at him with an assessing gaze. He had changed so much in the past few months and she felt he was sincere. How could she deny his request when he had sought her out for help? But vouching for him would be taking responsibility for him, a responsibility that would be hers regardless of what happened.

Hermione closed her eyes in thought. Finally, she opened them.

"Yes."

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